Spring can be a grab bag. You never know what you'll get. Crocuses and weeds arrive at the same time.
The sun moves from anemic to happy yellow, then sulks behind thunder clouds when you have an outdoor game.
The snow plow contract ends the day before the last big gasp of winter is dumped on the driveway. Spring likes surprises.
Biggest one is trying on your spring clothes from last year. Guess I over-wintered on holiday cookies while watching re-runs of "Fixer Upper".
Signs of Spring
Mowers roar and car washes hose off the ODOT salt. The spring thaw reveals our desire to be out and about, crawling from our little cocoons of comfort and hot cocoa…spreading arms, legs and…. wings.
Yes, the Red Winged Blackbird is back, and Bluebirds. Bird-song begins even as the last starlight fades at dawn. Everyone is eager to sing spring. Hoof marks imprinted in the soil betray the deer who are already sampling my awakening garden. Nipping things in the bud, so to speak.
Southwest winds bring scents of America up to my back yard, smells of bluebells, prairie, cattle, corn, oil, all whipping around my 100% cotton sheets when I hang them on the clothesline to dry.
I suppose in other parts of the world, Spring means something different.
For some places, perhaps it is when the rain comes; for others, when the rain ends. In some places, hotter; in others, cooler. For some, longer days, for others, shorter. If you Google "Spring" there must be a hundred languages to say it in. But whenever or wherever, Spring is more than a season…it's a state of mind.
Spring is checking out the baseball gloves in the sports section, getting your fishing license, or trolling the electronics aisle for the latest gadget. Spring is driving through neighborhoods where "Open House" signs hang on Sunday afternoons. Spring is waiting for the mail to bring college acceptance letters and wedding invitation. Spring is new beginnings.
It's no surprise that green is nature's go-to color after winter white. Green is the color we associate with Hope, and Spring is just the right season for Hope. The countryside shrugs out of its winter drear and spreads leaf and flower, and so should we. Spring is a time for Hope, and so I plan to keep my thoughts spring-green, despite the winter of my years. I plan to keep a song handy to sing, like the birds who sing without needing a reason.
And lastly, I plan to struggle into those spring clothes somehow. Now THAT'S going to take a LOT of Hope.
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