“Vernalized” is one of my favorite words. It is the concept of nature springing forth in spring and doing so particularly strongly when it is held back in dormancy during the winter. This week marked the official beginning of spring — the vernal equinox. It often feels a little disingenuous in Maine where spring really does NOT come in March. I still remember my first spring in Maine when the leaves didn’t come out on the trees until May, and I thought I was in a strange kind of time warp. To be fair, there are some crocuses and daffodils poking up already, and most of the snow has melted. Many of the frozen bays have now broken apart and open water is revealed. Still, in March, it feels like spring is not exactly upon us.

The defining factor of the vernal equinox, however, is not temperature but light. After night and darkness have seemed to swallow up day for many months, now light takes over and becomes more predominant as the season continues. As the Earth continues to tilt more towards the sun, the amount of daylight grows in the Northern Hemisphere. In addition to this increasing shift towards the sun, we also just shifted back to daylight savings, “springing” forward an hour so that there is more light in the evening.

But before the official shift occurs, there is a short moment of equilibrium where things seem to stand still and hang perfectly balanced — night and day are the same length and then sun sets right in the west and rises right in the east. This happens when the Earth’s axis is straight up and down so that there is the same amount of night (equinox) on both sides of the planet. By definition, it also means that there is an equal amount of light.

It is all of these combined — the period of darkness before, the brief pause in time and then the increase in light — that result in vernalization. From the crocus bulbs that have been holding on tight deep in the soil to the seaweeds on shore whose “buds” or reproductive receptacles begin to swell, life is about to burst open with new growth. Tinier cousins of these seaweeds, plankton, likewise experience a burst of growth as temperatures and light grow. These tiny marine plants reproduce like crazy in the spring, providing nutrients for much of the marine food chain. Sometimes, you can see the resulting change in water color with the naked eye, but often, the more dramatic displays of these blooms are seen through satellite imagery.

As all of this productivity explodes, marine animals also prepare for their big growth season. Like the seaweeds, sea creatures put a lot of energy into reproductive development as well. Over the next few months, they will grow rapidly and prepare to be ready to spawn later in the spring once the water is a bit warmer and thus better suited for their offspring. Then, there will be an amazing abundance of life in the water that has been catalyzed by the long period of dark dormancy followed by the energy of the light and warmth of spring.

This year, after a particularly snowy winter with more ice than I’ve seen on the bays in many before it, I wonder about all of the processes of springing forth, many of which we won’t even notice until we are in the thick of renewed ecosystems that have been quietly awaiting getting beyond this tipping point.

Susan Olcott is the director of strategic partnerships at Maine Coast Fishermen’s Association.