This April first of 2023, I’m reminded of that 2020 April in Wisconsin. San Diego is experiencing one of its wettest winters in its history, and it’s not over yet! California has had 12 “Atmospheric River” storms so far. Potholes, sinkholes, and fallen trees are the “new normal,” with cliff sides falling into the sea! Nevertheless, Gunter and I will wait out April here and in May, I’ll be blogging from Northern Bliss, our lake home in Wisconsin.


April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
–T.S. Eliot

April isn’t over yet, but I’ve felt her cruelty for long enough. Spring bliss has yet to arrive at Northern Bliss, our Wisconsin retreat. There were signs of spring that first week after we arrived: stalks of iris and tulips had pushed through the mulch, allium had grown to three inches, and most of the snow had melted. “It just may be an early spring this year,” I crowed.

During that week, Gunter and I saw the lake ice gradually disappear, forming a convenient shelf for the pair of eagles who nest in a tall evergreen on White Ash Lake. I’d watched them fish during the summers, swooping down from the sky. While gardening near the lake bank, I’d watched one of them steal a…

View original post 726 more words