As above, so below, states the 8th-century document, the Emerald Tablet, said to have been inscribed with the secrets of the universe.
And in the night sky, the Pleiades and Taurus lead Orion into the far west. The Big Dipper protrudes deep into the center of the sky. These and countless other constellations tell the time. And as Middle Spring arrives, the space-time calendar here on Earth below follows the changes overhead.
All across the East and Lower Midwest, the full blooming of forsythia, coincides with the sprouting of touch-me-nots in wetlands. Toad trillium, early meadow rue and May apples push up out of the ground. Along the highways, pears and plums bloom.
Woodcocks call near sunset. Bluebirds nest. And when barn swallows come to the barns, then farmers seed the first field corn and top-dress winter wheat. Lawns are long enough to cut. Gardeners transplant collards, broccoli and kale to the vegetable garden. Homeowners plant new shrubs and trees in the yard.
And just as skunk cabbage produces its foliage in swamps, the first vast wave of wildflowers suddenly opens in the woods with blossoms of hepatica, violet cress, bloodroot, Dutchman’s britches, twinleaf and Virginia bluebell... all following the stars into the endlessly intricate paradise of April.
This is Bill Felker with Poor Will’s Almanack. I’ll be back again next week with notes for the third week of Middle Spring. In the meantime, no matter whether you look to the sky or the land, it's Middle Spring.
