by Sonja Hakala

Andy Cooper took in as deep a breath as he could as soon as he stepped out the back door of Cooper’s General Store. Even though he wasn’t ready to shed his fleece vest yet, he sensed the warmth of the new spring sun on his arms.

He breathed in again, picking up the delicate scent of damp earth.

Down at his feet, his dog Sable lifted her nose, reading messages from squirrels, mice, and chipmunks in the air.

“How about a longer walk today?” Andy asked, picking out a number on his phone. “I feel like getting up in the hills so let’s see if Edie and Nearly want to join us.”

“Do you mind if Ruth and R.G. come too?” Edie asked. “The frost is out of the road up on Galaxy Hill and we could all use a good stretch to our legs.”

“Meet you there in 20 minutes.”

It’s difficult to find clearer skies than the ones that hover over Vermont at the end of April. Down on the ground, the grass in the fields looks like a brown comb-over on a balding head interspersed with the tiny green bristles of new grass. Only a few of the trees had been brave enough to leaf out.

The minimal green meant that on a sunny day, you could see forever.

The eager dogs tumbled over one another as soon as the car doors were opened. The friends always parked on the same flat, graveled spot on the edge of a field because it was the driest place on the dirt road. They let their furry companions romp while they leisurely sorted out their leashes and draped cameras over their shoulders.

“I saw a pair of eagles perched in that big cottonwood at the base of the Crow’s Head falls this morning,” Ruth said as they set out. “I keep hoping they’ll roost there but there’s no sign of an eyrie.”

“I would think it’s too exposed to the road for a nest there. But it would make a good lookout for hunting,” Andy said. “I imagine the view over the lake is spectacular from up there.”

Edie tilted back on her heels. “This is my first day walking in sneakers instead of boots,” she said. “It always feels rather odd, as if my feet are free again.”

“Yeah, you don’t realize how heavy our winter stuff is until you shed it and pull the spring stuff out of your closet.” Ruth looped the end of the leash she shared with her dog R.G. over her left wrist. “Where to? Cloudland Farm or King Road?”

Andy and Edie groaned. “Oh, I don’t think I’m up for King Road yet,” Edie said with a laugh. “The slope on that hill is as close to vertical as you can get around here. Let’s do Cloudland for now.”

They set off, the dirt road soft under their feet, swapping bits of Carding news, and pointing out birds in the air as well as small patches of green appearing in the wettest spots in the fields. Suddenly everyone stopped.

“Oh my, wood frogs. Lithobates sylvatica.” Edie’s face beamed as the three friends tried to locate the source of the quacking sound. “They’re early.”

Andy held Sable’s leash taut as the dog quivered with excitement. “Steady girl,” he murmured as they crept close to a swale carved out by water rushing around a pipe that struggled to drain one puddled field into another. “We don’t want to disturb them at mating. That’s kinda rude.” But just as suddenly as the quacking started, it stopped, and Ruth sighed.

“They must sense our movements through the ground,” she said. “They are so hard to get close to.”

Andy squatted down to get a better look at the now silent vernal pool, carefully avoiding a place where the earth gave way to the water. “I’d say this pool will be worth a visit in another couple of days. I can see egg jelly down there.”

After a moment of frog appreciation, the dogs whined and strained at their tethers.

“Okay.” Andy straightened up. “Let’s continue, shall we? Spring’s awaiting.”

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The Carding Chronicles are short stories written by author Sonja Hakala about the Vermont town that no one can quite find on a map. They feature the characters in the four Carding novels.

The Carding books are available from Amazon and the Chronicles appear here, on this website, every Monday. Hope to see you next week.