Joe’s Journal

A Saturday in spring

Ramblings from an old scribbler
Wed, 04/14/2021 - 7:00am

    I took a chance on Saturday.

    After all it was a warm sunny day, the perfect day to begin the outdoor chores season. It just seemed to be the right thing to do.

    So, I gathered up the hated snow shovels, climbed the stairs to the garage’s loft, and them in the corner. To compound the effort, I dusted the cobwebs away and pulled the lawn mower from under the stairs, replacing it with the snowblower. Then it was time to wheel the gas grill out of the shadows, shake off the cover and spend an hour or so cleaning gunk off the innards.

    Why not? The birds attacked the bird feeder at a pace akin to old-time news reporters at an event featuring free food and drink.

    It is spring, the ospreys are back fixing up their old digs. I spotted a dark green spotted salamander wiggling down the hill to a vernal pool in search of a bit of romance. Peepers will soon begin their spring concert.

    In the garden, warm sunshine and mellow temperatures ordered the daffodils and tulips to attention. Soon their blooms will bring us joy.

    It is April. Easter was two weeks ago. Time to put away the heavy sweaters and parkas…right? Old-timers would just snort at the thought. “Too soon, Chummy,” Tim Sample might say. “Too soon.”

    Was it just 11 years ago when a storm knocked 32 percent of the state off the grid while leaving 7 inches of snow in Portland? On May 10, 1990, a storm hammered the “Yoopers” in Marquette, Michigan with a storm that left them 22 inches of snow. That same storm moved our way dropping 11 inches of snow in Worcester, Massachusetts. Records tell us the Portlanders woke up to find 16 inches of white stuff in their front yards in April 1982.

    OK, OK, I know it could happen. Coulda, woulda, shoulda, yeah, yeah.

    But Saturday’s sun was bright and the breezes were soft. We have been under self-imposed house arrest for a year as Mr. COVID-19 lingered outside our cabin door bringing us, and our nation, hard times.

    Sure, Dr. Nirav Shah, the director of the Maine Center for Disease Control, tells us the latest COVID cases are inching up to levels last seen in the winter. And, he says, 45 percent of them are people under 30.

    But the vaccines have arrived. Health pros stuck nearly 890,000 of us. A half-million got the first dose and 376,000 got the final one.

    We got our jabs. Did you? Most of the state is now eligible. Make an appointment.

    Despite COVID, hope is in the air, accompanied by twittering birds and sunny skies.

    The pages of my favorite newspaper, the combined Boothbay Register and Wiscasset Newspaper, note hospitality and restaurant honchos are looking for help. Old resorts have new owners who brought in new energy and fresh paint.

    Last week, Paul Bradbury, the boss of Portland Jetport, told TV reporters he anticipates this summer’s air traffic will return to normal or better.

    Instead of hiding in their dark offices, our local educators are looking forward to updating their buildings and grounds. Students, teachers and especially parents look forward to normal, in-person, in the classroom, learning situations.

    At the Opera House, Cathy Sherrill is still booking top live shows. I am looking forward to the May 6 concert by the Portland Symphony Brass Quintet. As an old trombone player, I love the buttery harmonies you get from a top drawer brass group.

    For the locals, she booked a group to honor the memory of the late Dominic Garvey, the music director of the Carousel music theater. They will perform in the fall. And, get this, she has booked none other than Ramblin’ Jack Elliot. If this folk music legend can still tour at 90 something, I will be there. Will you? He will ramble onto the old stage on July 30.

    For more details, check out their website.

    Baseball is back and the Red Sox are winning, at least so far.

    The economists use words like pent-up consumer demand to describe how we all feel. Even the fed chairman is making happy talk.

    Maybe, just maybe, things are looking up.

    Hope so.