Spring has sprung in Glen Ellen
While Browning scribed a love song to England in April, we shout the joys of March in our town, borrowing a snowy image from Housman’s “Shropshire Lad.”
Even as you read this, we’re seven days away from the vernal equinox. Yet, spring has arrived in Glen Ellen. It’s easy to see in the profusion of golden daffodils at both ends of our village.
Heading into our town from Highway 12, David and Jeanne Everidge’s Glen Ellen Gate House sports clusters of bright yellow daffodils reflecting the morning sun and the evening sunset. On Glen Ellen's westward side, running along Warm Springs Road, Mark Brewer’s place is alive with bobbing yellow daffodils that bounce in the wind.
Even those who can’t stand the allergic effects of flowering acacia have to admit that the sprays of blooming yellow pom-poms bring excitement.
Glen Ellen’s ubiquitous cherry plums are a snowy delight right now. Their tender blossoms break loose in the slightest breeze, covering our driveway with a shower of snow-white petals. However, it isn’t just the flora that speaks to us.
Jeanne Wirka’s carefully placed trip-cameras on the trails have caught the Bouverie’s mountain lion strolling close to the hall in the midnight hours. Kenny Brenek, one of our local creek-watchers, sighted two steelhead on their upstream journey beneath the O’Donnell Lane Bridge. Anyone with a glance skyward can watch springtime birds cavorting and courting.
Springtime sunsets in Glen Ellen continue the golden theme. From our Creekbottom House we can watch the last of the late afternoon light filtering through the lacey tops of the cottonwood (one rotten trunk is our resident pileated woodpecker’s favorite drumming tree). Always, that light reminds me of Longfellow’s “Children’s Hour,” a magic twilight time, suffused with a golden glow.
While walking recently in the Regional Park, Pat Coleman bid me notice the “dappled afternoon light” on a steep uphill swath of oak-covered hillside. Outside the post office, Neil Shepard said of one recent day threatening showers that he could “see the sparkling ions in the air.” Spring brings out the poet in us all.
Last weekend’s lecture offerings in our little town were memorable. First was the Bouverie’s Quercus Quarterly featuring Greg Sarris. He delivered an outstanding talk to almost 70 docents and friends, informing us about everything from his reptilian friend, Matilda, to a history of native peoples in our Valley. Kudos to Greg for keeping us informed while entertaining us. And more kudos to Angela Morgan who arranged his visit.
Angela is also on the board of our Glen Ellen Historical Society and she was on hand last Saturday afternoon when another 100-plus folks gathered to hear Mr. Robert Parmelee and Dr. Charles Siebenthal talk about trains. The biggest delight of the day (well, other than Margie Everidge’s miracle lemon bars) was Parmalee’s circa 1900s train conductor’s costume. He looked dapper and distinguished. Happy me: my Sweetie took a picture of me with gentleman Parmalee.
While writing this column last week, a springtime fat full moon featuring a benevolent smile and a glowing golden aura blessed me. As I stood admiring it in the cold night air, a quick gust of wind covered my bare head with those snowy plumb blossoms I earlier mentioned. Shaking them out, I remembered – just in time – to end this column with happy birthday wishes to Glen Ellen’s most awesome guitar man. May the moon bless you, too, David Aguilar.
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Call or write me with your good news: 996-5995, P.O. Box 518, GE 95442 or email email@example.com. Glen Ellen chatter rarely requires timeliness; however, if your news does, please be sure to contact me at least three weeks in advance.