Pruning in March | The Blog

“Life by a thousand cuts,” I sing to the apple trees in March. It’s my own, awful rendition of a Taylor Swift song stuck on repeat in my head. Three more branches land in the snow. “It’s fine,” I tell the tree. “You’ll look great.”

Last week, a stint of warm sun gave me a boost of energy. I drove to our Vermont home where my gardens live. I dragged the sheers, loppers, and mini-saw out of the shed and pruned twenty hydrangea bushes, nine apple trees, two pear trees, and one big honeysuckle vine. My fingers were full of blisters. I dreamt of branch cuttings for days afterwards, but I was thrilled to see them with a new chop, ready to return to peak beauty.

Pruning wood in early March is an ideal time. The dormant trees don’t feel the effects of my choices now. But soon enough, they’ll awaken to that light, airy, energized feeling, pushing new leaves and buds from their strongest branches.

I never understood a seasonal work rhythm until I started a tour operation in Maine, where hospitality is forced to rest by nature’s hand. Summer here feels like a sprint and then, despite all the business momentum, you suddenly lose your legs. You fall forward and roll to a thudded halt.

Lady Oyster as a business rests in November, March, and April. November is meant for review, closure, and a reality check. How did we do this summer? What could have been better? What’s itching me that I need to let go of?

At the same time, the oysters finish stocking up on their winter sugars and become so incredibly delicious, that we continue with a winter program to celebrate those flavors. It is a softer season that fades with time. I have to remind myself again and again that Lady Oyster isn’t forgotten, it’s just “the way of things” in a place like Maine. By mid-February I accept what the season has offered me and I drift into my own hibernation. I rise later each morning. I rest my feet. I share and communicate more deeply. 

And then, once rest has reached its peak (where I’ve eaten too many root veg, my jeans don’t fit, and the couch needs serious fluffing), the nervous system resets and the mind has all the room in the world to make a thousand good decisions.

Two years into Lady Oyster, I am now appreciating this stubborn, seasonal cycle. It is different but refreshing. Gone from my body is the year-round intensity of being a corporate road warrior, gone is the mindlessness of inhaling dinner while my brain is elsewhere, gone are the Asia presentations from 2-6AM… Also gone is a salary that I once made my whole personality (still getting used to that part).

Today, my business—a business that is all about nature—is forced to live by nature’s renewal, just like everything born from the ground up. 

My hydrangea heads and tree branches now sit in piles, a reminder of all of the thoughtful decisions I made for my plants this year. And the same goes for Lady Oyster. Rest, creative space, and today’s good choices will make summer bloom with experiences that you rightfully deserve for your own moments of rest and peace—not a tired, linear model that isn’t sustainable in our realm of tourism.

I will thank myself for accepting that seasons are designed this way for a reason. Like the trees and the oysters and the inherent beauty of Maine, I use the moment wisely. 

A Delicious Apple Parsley Mignonette

1/4 cup of white wine vinegar
1/4 cup of apple cider vinegar
1/2 shallot, finely diced
1/4 of a green apple, finely diced
1 tbsp honey
1/2 tbsp of finely chopped parsley
Salt and pepper to taste

Dice shallot, apple. Chop parsley. Mix all ingredients into a glass jar. Tinker with honey if the vinegar is too sharp. Leave in refrigerator for 3-6 hours. Garnish top of mignonette with a little more chopped parsley (for color when serving).

Shuck oysters to ice on and add 1/2 tsp to the top of the oyster. Add mignonette as you go. No need to smother all the oysters at once. :)