Two pedestrians killed in crosswalk crash

By NANCY JANE KERN

WE HAD AN ESPECIALLY wonderful Easter dinner this year. For the first time since I smashed my left leg, and we went through Covid with the loss of so many friends and family members I was able to get into my niece and her husband’s historic Austerlitz home to celebrate. We had a glorious sunny day and light poured through the old windows on a beautifully decorated table using China I recognized. Pussy willows cut from the yard were an airy table centerpiece. My sister Dona (spelled correctly from Daphne Du Maurier’s novel “Frenchman’s Creek”) was on my right with her husband. The three of us formed the elder group. Their two daughters plus husbands were next plus one of their generation’s friends who was someone we all knew, and then the newest generation, my sister’s engineer grandson Christian was home.

Dona’s children were also “my children” since I had none of my own. I have been a nature lover all my life having grown up surrounded by it on our family farms. I often “borrowed” Dona’s children when I had time off from my job and I think it was a welcome relief for their busy lives to have a break. I became a kid again and I have written about our adventures in the past.

One of my favorite things was to send them off to the woods with dampened hands to collect interesting creatures or something that caught their eye. They were already taught to recognize the harmful and poisonous hazards of the area. They would return with a pretty leaf, a frog, or maybe an odd piece of bark depending on the season.

The tradition carried on to their children and one wet spring Christian (age 6) came running back to me with a tiny salamander that he carefully held. It was a red-backed salamander from near one of the vernal pools in my woods. Vernal refers to temporary pools of water in spring, the Vernal Equinox. It was a new find for my woods, and I was more excited than he. It was fat with soon to be laid eggs.

After our 2024 Easter dinner was finished, we sat around stuffed and happily talking when Christian came to me. In his damp hands was a beautiful large spotted salamander looking fat with eggs. We were both just as excited as we had been when he was 6. Around the table, there were lots of remembrances and laughs and a few startled looks of stifled revulsion (they recovered and learned). I was taught my love of nature by my great-grandmother (a teacher), by her daughter my maternal grandmother, my mother, and now down to the sixth generation of nature lovers I have known.

It was my best Easter gift.