I'm with dawn

meet me at sunrise

The end of March finds us at the beginning of a new year and a new cycle: the astrological new year with the sun in Aries brings all the fire the seeds and bulbs need to warm just enough to start again, to push up through the still-cold earth and meet the sun. The sun reaches an angle in the Vermont sky that lights a spark in our bodies to start producing Vitamin D again (and gosh can I feel it). We get a fresh start this time of year along with the plants, we get to dust ourselves off from a cold winter, start new gardens and new habits and new dresses to wear when May finally begs for bare arms and ankles.

Here in the dawntime of this new year, I’ve got a resolution to wake up, make a cup of hot tea by quick candlelight, and step out the door just as the sun peeks up over the easterly mountains. I don’t live in a place with a particularly spectacular sunrise or sunset – where I am in a high valley, something of a holler, there’s simply too many trees and ridges all around me to get a big stretch of sky. All the same, the sun comes up over the mountain horizon and marks the new day and I want to be there to greet it. My plan is to walk northeast around 6:30am each day in April, just for twenty minutes or a half hour. It’s a busy time of the morning on a weekday with making breakfast and getting ready to drive my children to school, but I’m too curious not to try. I wonder how it might feel to keep that promise to myself for a month, to greet each morning with clear intention, purpose, curiosity, and wonder. I won’t put any hopes or expectations on how what that might mean or how it might feel – really I just want to walk in the morning, to be a cold mountain sun worshipper. To greet the coltsfoot and then the trillium, bloodroot, and trout lilies. To notice the morning of the year, every morning for a month.

Now we get to the proper invitation. Who wants to meet me at sunrise?  We’re going to keep it cozy with a hot cup of tea or coffee and our most comfortable shoes. We’ll bundle up if we need to, we’ll tell everyone what we’re up to and if you need something you can’t get for yourself, well I’ll be right back. What could come from nourishing ourselves with sun and air and peace before all else each day? What would it look like to meet ourselves before we bloom?

Before we get to dawn and to April, we’ve got easter to celebrate. I’ll tell you our simple traditions: crafts the week before, usually simple things like paper eggs or wet-felted ones to hang on an apple branch in a jar on the table, candying orange and lemon peel for sourdough hot cross buns on Saturday, and Friday night we’ll boil red cabbage, beets, and onion skins to make egg dyes. Sunday the children will wake to baskets filled with a few small handmade gifts and a book to while the afternoon away with, and a chocolate rabbit and pouch of jellybeans from the chocolate shop. Before they wake up, I’ll hide the eggs outside and we’ll run out to hunt for them before brunch. I like playing easter bunny once a year, tucking eggs into bunches of burgeoning daffodil leaves and next to the coop, even in a nesting box to see if the boys notice a bright red egg where there are usually just cream and brown and pale green. It’s an easy day and a happy one, and no matter how much snow flies in April there’s not going back to winter after easter.

I’m awfully excited for brunch this year. On Saturday night I’ll wrap some potatoes in tin foil and set them in a dutch oven over the woodstove. By morning they’ll be just barely softened from the ambient warmth and perfect for home fries, fried up with rosemary and onions and garlic. I’m making a braided caramelized onion loaf, a real centerpiece bread, using this recipe from 101 Cookbooks paired with my own sourdough brioche dough (recipe below). There will be an egg scramble for boys and a tofu scramble for mom, bacon, and a little red fruit salad (also Heidi’s idea). I’d love to hear what’s on your menu.

For their baskets I’m making pencil pouches. Three quilted, zippered pouches for three boys to cart pens and pencils and markers in and out of the car and up and down the stairs. I can’t think of anything they need more that would fit perfectly in mismatched old, handled baskets, and I picked up some neon number twos and some bright retractable markers to tuck inside. I’ll stitch them each a notebook and collage a paper bird on each cover. There’s nothing my two younger children love these days more than birds – watching them, listening for them, drawing them, dressing like them. After Sunday they’ll have a place to draw their bird collections, or any number of imagined or beloved things. I’ll tuck an egg in there filled with pea seeds, a tradition I’ve kept up for several years that always has us outside planting in the afternoon with a spirit of togetherness and potential around the new year’s garden. It’ll be a nice day, it always is, and when the sun sets it’ll set on March too and I’ve got April mornings to look forward to.

Sun sparked, melting and melting, warming and warming. Here’s to April, I’ll see you at dawn.

warmly, J

*On my table above, birds from the Dilly Dally Society and a card by Michelle too, and spring ornaments from Moonpie Wood Co.

Sourdough Brioche

A versatile and adaptable basic brioche dough, use this recipe as a starting point to create beautiful breads that bridge the gap between soft, hearty loaves and buttery pastry.

2/3 cup (150mL) whole milk

1 cup (200g) active starter

1/4 cup (75g) maple syrup

4 eggs

3 cups (475g) all purpose flour

1/2 cup (100g) whole wheat flour

1 tablespoon (15g) salt

2 sticks (16 tablespoons, 225g) unsalted butter, at room temperature

In a medium-sized bowl or large glass measuring cup, whisk together the milk, starter, maple syrup, and eggs. In the bowl of a stand mixer or a large bowl if mixing by hand, combine the flours and salt. Using the dough hook, stir together the flour and salt. With the mixer on low, begin pouring the wet mixture into the flour slowly, and mix until the dough comes together. If mixing by hand, add the wet mixture to the dry and stir them together with a wooden spoon or dough whisk until the dough comes together. Allow the dough to rest in the bowl for 10 minutes, and slice the room temperature butter into pats.

Turn the mixer back on to medium-low, and begin adding the butter, one pat at a time. Let it become fully incorporated before adding the next pat. If mixing by hand, mix each pat in with your hands while you knead the dough to build its strength and elasticity. Whether using the mixer or by hand, this process should take 8-10 minutes.

When the butter is fully incorporated, gather the dough into a ball inside the bowl and cover with a damp kitchen towel. Allow the dough to bulk ferment in a warm but not hot spot (around 70 degrees is ideal) for 4-6 hours until the dough is risen to double its original size. Once risen, place the dough in the refrigerator overnight.

In the morning, proceed with your chosen shape, allowing for a 2-3 hour proofing period and baking typically around 350 degrees for a lower, slower bake than classic sourdough.