Editor’s note: Butch Lawson is off this month. This column originally appeared in the April 2020 edition of the Harpswell Anchor.
As ol’ Al Tennyson said, “In the Spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.” First, that’s a young man’s problem, and, as I remember, there was nothing “light” about that particular fancy. But, more to the point, while young men have their own challenges, the rest of us also have stuff to be happy about in the spring. I’m talking about smoked brisket, baby back ribs, chicken, sausage, salmon and sides, such as fresh fiddleheads, that make spring worth celebrating.
For me, winter loosening its long hold and giving into the warmth of spring inspires one of the purest forms of contentment. Also right up there is a good protein smoking low and slow while I relax on the porch with a Moxie. In the spring, this man’s fancy turns to thoughts of homemade barbecue sauce.
I was given a smoker a number of birthdays ago by some folks who may be my offspring, and I quickly fell in love with the process and the results. Now there are two smokers in the inventory, as well as a couple of grills, and cooking outside has become one of my favorite pastimes. I’m fortunate enough to have some accomplished chefs among my friends who have been both helpful and inspiring.
Spring has her mean side, too. I have to change the oil in the snowblower, clean it out of old fuel, and put it out of sight ready for the next winter, but that means I have to drag out the lawn mower. The ice-melting stuff that comes in those handy 200-pound bags that the checkout lady at Lowe’s has to load for me can get shoved under the workbench in the garage.
Snow shovels, scrapers and the big ol’ ice chipper go back into storage to reappear in seven months or so. Then there are the springtime bugs — ticks, mosquitoes and later black flies. Did I mention Mud Season? (If any season should be capitalized, it’s this one.) Seriously, Ma Nature, lighten up on that one. Thanks in advance.
With this spring will come the flowers from the bulbs I planted last fall. I’m really looking forward to seeing what they will become. I don’t remember what I bought or what flavors they are, so it will be a pleasant and colorful surprise when they bloom. Lilacs in the yard — I love lilacs — will fill the sea air with their wonderful, sweet aroma.
There’s a honeysuckle bush on my dog-walking route that brings back pleasant, young man memories of an evening walk holding hands with Linda Pifer. I think that may have been the first time my thoughts turned to love, or perhaps it was something more primitive. The honeysuckle fragrance in the air that evening provided a trigger for the memory that lasts to this day.
So, I’m ready for warmer weather. For me, Harpswell is at her best in spring, when everything is new and the air is sweet with the promise of summer. It’s that little slice of time after winter and before the crowds, when the honeysuckle awakens even an old man’s fancy.
