This post was originally published via Substack on March 23, 2024.
March can be a fickle month here in Wilmington. I’ve seen a fair few different weather patterns come and go in the years I’ve spent in my hometown, including heavy blankets of snow (heavy in coastal Carolina terms — so let’s say an inch). Before February was even over I could tell this year felt different and reaching 82º Fahrenheit for two consecutive days before the Spring Equinox. It’s tempered out a bit again, raining off and on this weekend with temps in the 60s. But I won’t pretend I’m not a little apprehensive about what this summer’s weather will look like.
I can see change everywhere in my neighborhood as the days roll into spring. The Carolina jasmine (Gelsemium sempervirens) that twists its way through a nearby patch of trees has already bloomed its tiny yellow flowers. The white petals on the scrubby yaupon holly (Ilex vomitoria) that grows among the stand of pines and wax myrtles catches my eye when I take the dog for a walk. Both are native to southeastern North Carolina and, while they might not be part of the formal planting that are orderly and maintained by a swarm of landscapers each week, they are my favorite things to look for. In the adjoining neighborhood, the stink of the flowering Bradford pear trees (Pyrus calleryana) has already waned and the Formosa azaleas (Rhododendron indica 'Formosa') are bursting in a riot of fuchsia, but both only make me wrinkle my nose. Neither are native and the invasive Bradfords literally have a bounty on them in North Carolina. Perhaps I will even share my own personal vendetta against azaleas in this space on another day.
Despite its natural unruliness, Carolina Jasmine is a gorgeous, fast-growing climber.
Plant pet peeves aside, I am so happy for the new season. Winter was tough. Even though I enjoy the excuse to make my evenings as cozy as possible or reminisce about how a cold, drizzly day makes me think of the driech days of living in Scotland, I have found that I am happiest when I can enjoy that seasonal shift. The natural rhythms of moving from one season to another just feels right. March has been a good marker for change in my life this year. I’ve finally found a better workflow from changing jobs at the start of the year. I’ve delved further into projects, both new and old, and even had the opportunity to share my work in local community settings. It honestly has felt like a breath of fresh air.
So what exactly have I been up to? Much of my week is focused on teaching. As a lecturer in history, I’m running a few graduate seminars on topics like families in the Atlantic world, deathways in America, and the Age of Revolutions. My undergraduates are taking a course with me in British history since 1815. When I have the extra time, I’m continuing a research project on the social and environmental history of the Lower Cape Fear. It’s been absolutely fascinating to allow myself some space to approach research in a different way than I usually do, and — fingers crossed — it’s going to pay off in the long run. I mean, it’s not every day that one goes from looking at archaeological surveys and pathologies of skeletal remains to reading letters written by families fleeing disease or wading through old rice swamps. In the quieter moments at home, I’ve been exploring my work as a textile artist and taking inspiration from a few of the women in my own personal history who were quilters.
After a few years of what felt like flailing about, things kind of feel like I want them to. I’m learning what fits with my own values — what to say no to and what to accept with enthusiasm. I’m carving out a space in my community that feels right. That being said, I hope this little corner of the internet might be a place where I can continue that work. Maybe you’ll join me?
-K
