The first week of June

Early June might just be the prettiest time of year at the Sanctuary.

This is my first early June on the property. Two years ago we hadn’t yet arrived (we moved here mid-June 2024). Last year at this time we were in Montreal to celebrate convocations and visit the kids.

I am revelling in the sparkling beauty of this brief window of time.

Living so close to the ocean, the trees in our area leaf very late in the season. Compounding the coastal cooling influence, the hardwoods on our property are mostly oak and ash which are late emerging leaf species to begin with.

These factors contribute to our trees leafing out 1 to 2 weeks later than those in town, just 15 kilometres inland. Which explains why in this first week of June we’re in that ephemeral chartreuse green brilliance. A favourite seasonal moment for me that rivals my affinity for October’s crimson and golden hues

Everything is fresh and green, the trees are blossoming, there is no hint of the tired heat and dull yellowing of late July and August. If those are the dog days of summer this is definitely the rambunctious puppy stage.

The days are long and feel full of possibility. Summertime humidity is still some weeks away and the air is springtime fresh. My dreams for an abundant garden harvest haven’t yet been tempered by pests and drought.

It’s a high hope time of year.

If I draw parallels between the calendar seasons and my own body I’d have to say my late teens and twenties was my early June - fresh, blossoming, energetic, and fecund.

It’s a gift to have lived those years but also to re-live the experience in nature, year after year.

I will never know that greenness again in my body but I can know and live it again in late spring/early summer.

Maybe that’s why this time of year, with its effervescent prettiness, feels so special, both a remembering and a sweet return.