Director’s Note: Spring 2023

By Rob Terry, Executive Director

Several weeks ago, with a late winter nor’easter poised to bury southwestern Vermont, talk in the Visitor Center turned to the relationship between the calendar and the value of snow. On the front end of the season, in late October and early November, the snow can’t come soon enough or fall deep enough. The snowy season starts in mid-November in our minds, but often not until late-December in the mountains. Come March, Vermont’s snowiest month, the storms that motivated outdoor enthusiasts from around the region to pack up their gear and head to the mountains find many of those same folks shopping for new board shorts on-line while dreaming of trips to the beach.

It’s easy to write off March and April in Vermont as nothing but cold rain, mud, gray skies and fierce winds— something to be escaped rather than enjoyed. While it’s easy to feel the pull of tropical latitudes this time of year, it would be a shame to miss out on all that spring in the north woods has to offer. A veritable symphony builds over time as a host of birds return for the season and scores of amphibians emerge from underneath the leaf litter and return to ponds and vernal pools. Sap flows and steam bellows out of sugar houses. Small streams that will be dry by July fill with cascading snowmelt that lends a fleeting beauty to the woods while enriching the spring soundscape. Ephemerals take advantage of the brief window in which the sun has returned, but the canopy has not leafed out, to carpet the forest floor with their vibrant, delicate flowers. It truly is a time of renewal.

Go out into the woods and celebrate the small things. Listen to the spring peepers chirp and the red wing blackbirds sing. Search for egg masses in vernal pools. Seek out the trout lily, spring beauties, bloodroot and Dutchman’s breeches. Toss a stick into a spring creek seething with snowmelt and watch it tumble through the rapids. It’s easy to overlook the forest this time of year, to write these months off as a dormant shoulder season. In reality, it is a time of reawakening and rejuvenation that rewards patience and a keen eye with a sense of hope and excitement—don’t miss out.

By Sue Van Hook, Board President

There is something special about beginning a tradition. As the years pass, the connection to it deepens. I first started coming to a Merck Forest cabin in 2002 on December 22nd. It was the perfect transition from grading papers at the end of the fall semester and giving myself a few days to recharge before Christmas Day. My oldest daughter and two of her friends joined me and a colleague at Ned’s Place. There was abundant snow that year and these high school seniors had fun building snow creatures in the moonlight. My friend and I stuck to playing cribbage inside. For many more years I kept to these dates - hike in on December 22nd and hike out on December 24th. Most mornings on Christmas eve, snug in a sleeping bag reading a good book, I asked my daughter if we could just stay put. As a college student just beginning break, she was always in agreement -” It is so peaceful, Mom.” But we always made our way down the mountain and home in time to make the stollen, another long held family tradition. On our way out we always stopped at the Visitor Center to book a cabin for the following year, same dates.

But why am I speaking of December when spring is upon us? It is to remind myself of the importance of appreciating those things that remain a constant and embracing the newness of change. Up on the mountain this winter at MFFC, we experienced an early snowfall, a long hiatus from any snow, and a few whopper blizzards late in the season. The reliable snows of Decembers past are no longer a sure thing. It seems it’s time to start new traditions. There are many of you who include time spent at MFFC in your tradition making. We’d love for you to tell us about them and how they have changed from then to until now.