It happens every year around the third or fourth week of April. I don't have the dates marked on my calendar, but I always know, at a cellular level, when it's time. For me, it signals the true end to the long Vermont winter; an absolute sign that the snow, slush, and gray days are behind me. It lifts my spirits and imbues me with new hope and energy.
It's the annual peeper orgy.
Two nights ago, on a profound anniversary (the first time I got laid off from a tech writing job when the high tech bubble burst six years ago), I found myself driving along the dirt road near my favorite peeper pond. Why did I choose that rutted dirt road when there are other more direct, less axle damaging ways to get home?
Simple. Peepers. My body just knows to seek them out every year at this time without me even thinking about it.
It's a swampy, wet area on both sides of a dirt road. I can't tell you where it is because it's mine and I'm selfish about my peeper ritual. Sorry. But, if you live in Vermont, there are many areas like this: dirt road with deep winter frost heaves, pond, trees, no light from homes, perfectly naturally dark. The night air is magical in my peeper place, smelling of moist soil and birth.
I have to hand it to those male peepers; their cacophonic chorus soothes me. Their stamina and determination to mate inspire me. Nothing stops these guys. I depend on them.
I first discovered the peepers the eve of a devasting layoff from a tech writing job in the telecom industry in 2001; a traumatic date for me. I was in love with that job. After that, my love of technical writing and my desire to work for others waned. I tried, but I just couldn't muster up much enthusiam. Anyway, I remember being terrified, sad, and totally uncertain of how I would survive. Vermont Shortbread Company was in existance then, but it was much smaller than it is today. I was a single parent, I had a mortgage, no backup funds or support from other sources; I was paralyzed with fear.
The peepers put everything in perspective about how life goes on and how really small my problems at the time were in the scheme of my life and the world. Standing under a clear, spring sky and listening to their song, I vowed to come back every year and evaluate my career direction. The peepers never let me down.
I didn't think much about shortbread while listening to the peepers the other night. How could I sully such a moment with thoughts of business? Interestingly, though, my commitment to no thoughts about shortbread...lead me to some clear realizations about direction for this decade-old company I own. It must be something about getting out of my own head and putting myself in the big picture...the night sky, the peepers, the perspective that shortbread is not the ONLY thing in my life.
So, I'm thinking about some changes at Vermont Shortbread Company that will free me up to do what I love most - write and teach. Vermont Shortbread Company has been around for a decade. We're not going anywhere. Like the peepers, we're dependable, quiet in the winter and loud with growth and new life in the spring. Like the peepers, we're smallish, but en masse, we are a powerful force of nature. I'm figuring out where to get the help I need to sustain that power for another decade.
A lot has changed since I first discovered my peepers. Through all of the changes, my spring peeper journey keeps me humble, centered, and focused on natural cycles and my purpose in the world as my friends fulfill their purpose of peeping and mating.
Happy spring.
Ann Zuccardy, Peeper fanatic and shortbread guru
P.S. Mother's Day is coming up May 13th, order a shortbread gift box now to ensure timely delivery to mom!
