May 21, 2013
Last year at this time we were packing for our one month move to Montreal. We also went backpacking and were celebrating Céine's arrival at the teen years with a special birthday.

The coming of the green was almost missed in the busyness of our life last May.

This summer, except for a couple trips, we are staying put. And most significantly, we're not moving. What a big difference that makes!

This month the days are rolling one into another, not rolling me over. I have marveled at each one. Some wet and chilly (toques and gloves are still kept in the front closet); others deliciously warm and summer-like. Each day, a bit more green arriving to our mountain valley.


And yesterday it occurred to me what to call this time of spring - these days of greening. This is fiddlehead season.

It is not early spring, when the days start to warm, but are still devoid of color. And this is not late spring either. Those few short weeks, mere days sometimes, where the greenery is fully out; and the temperatures and light are sublime before the full heat of summer. (The bugs of late spring are another matter entirely.)

This is the middle of the spring season and where we are, fiddlehead season describes it well. The fiddleheads are in abundance, and their green unfurling bespeaks spring's intentions.

So, fiddlehead season it is.

You can even eat fiddleheads, they are one of the first edible greens. Unfortunately I had a bad experience with them once (they tasted like swamp) and haven't been eager to try cooking them since. But we've got a bag of them in our fridge. Gifts from friends who came harvesting in our backyard, so I should probably give this local, wild edible another try.