Waking Up: An Ode To Spring
And so it begins.
Here on the West Coast, we are Spring’s canary in the coalmine. The groundhog may have seen his shadow, but here the march of spring has started. The ground awakens and nature follows.
Snowbells are devouring whole lawns. Trees have sprung buds. Dandelions and crocuses have popped up. Daffodils and rhododendrons are days from bloom. Eager cherry blossoms are racing to open.
This is Spring, where I live.
Friends and family on the East Coast whimper and groan as I share my nearly-Sprung photos, griping about the stranglehold Old Man Winter has yet.
Still, like the classic song goes, it’s under those bitter snows where the seed lies that, with the sun’s love, becomes the rose.
“If we had no winter,
the spring would not be so pleasant:
If we did not sometimes taste of adversity,
prosperity would not be so welcome.”
Spring brings out the poet in us, and the lover, and the child. It unleashes optimism. Our windows open for cool breezes bearing whiffs of floral perfumes, followed often by the laughter and cries of children at play in the streets as days grow longer and conditions improve.
Beauty (and hay fever!)
There’s something cathartic about the onslaught of growth and freshness, even to someone like me who loves the beauty and dreads the hay-fever. But let not the sneezes and sniffles and runny eyes stop the explosion of beauty, says I.
With the opening of buds and flowers and greening of grasses comes too the plotting and dreaming of our lives filled with duplicity. No longer will we be captive to weather and trapped indoors all hours.
Return to outdoor living
No! We will not be denied our big green parks, our awakening yards and gardens. We will not be limited to errands and light outdoor activity followed by forever warming up with hot beverages and blankets. No! We will have lawn chairs! We will have barbecues! We will even dare to tan.
Soon, “outdoor living” becomes more than just a section in a store. It becomes something we do. Whether sipping lemonade at a backyard table, busting out the wading pool for the kids, hanging a new hammock under the trees, or just lying on a blanket in the yard, it’s not enough for us to walk and play outside — soon we obsess about just being outside for no reason at all. Book in hand, sunscreen on the body, these are the times we strive to suck the marrow out of all our days.
We are, after all, a part of nature. Despite desperate attempts to master the natural world, we remain a holdover to it. In winter, we succumb to hibernation. We sleep more, eat more, rest more. As days grow longer and temperatures warm up, our solar-powered souls get recharged and revved up. Go, go, go. Active after work, active on weekends. We seldom stop, but we seldom want to, either.
Spring is our awakening. Take it from us on the West Coast — our waking has begun.