As a metaphor there’s perhaps nothing more salient than Spring.
We emerg from our winter hibernations - bears from dens, daffodils from bulbs, humans from seasonal affective disorders - brightened by lengthening days and a brightening sun.
We soak up and consume the energy of Mother Earth and her star.
Life is beautiful.
Our community has suffered greatly this past winter - a crisis of deaths of despair that I would argue for our population size is unprecedented in Canada. But from a period of mourning, we now have a chance for rebirth.
I have hope.
Softball season starts, dryland at the arena and, most anticipated of all, our Port Hardy pool opening - as we shake off our winter slumbers with activity.
I studied medicine at McGill and lived in Montréal for 7 years. More than anyone I know, Montréalais know how to emerg with the equinox - terrace season strips off winter parkas as bière and vin pour freely feeding generous servings of poutine.
Back here on the North Island, gatherings for seed sharing, egg hunts and cultural ceremonies foretell a generous summer of salmon spawning, forests falling and whale watching.
We are blessed.
As we start to move our muscles again, soon comes a gravel bike race around Malcolm Island and a Hustle around Hardy (of the 10km/21km varieties).
I love all seasons. But spring gives me the most hope. Gardening is a great joy. Since I tended to community garden plots in Montréal, I have grown to love the investment that comes with planting seeds - a belief in the promise of life. Of what could be. Spring shoots reveal blooms. Bees buzz. Gardens grow. Our North Island Farmers markets share a bounty of the land and build community.
Once again we come together. Emerging from a winter isolation towards a warming sun.
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