Hello from the land of grass and clay.
Like the flowers reaching for the sun, I’m reaching for some light. Shaking off the last bits of snow and ice, I’m looking forward to fragrant lilacs and brave squirrels finding their caches of last autumn’s harvest.
It seems that upheaval and abrupt change are in this spring’s scope. Things that used to be hostile are now looking for peace. Things that were silenced are now crying out from the ground.
My world is no different. There is school ending and beginning. There is a tent that needs to be checked and cleaned for camping. There are financial decisions; what to buy or not buy is a moving target. The youth are looking for employment. Families move out and move in throughout the neighborhood.
There seems to be a pulse about spring, though sometimes it’s more like tachycardia. Choices are made quickly and there is too much haste, putting the eggs in the basket only to have them fall and crack open. There were appearances of the sun, only to be hidden with heavy clouds and the drips of rain. People cram the mall only to find that the stores are closing and not a lot is taking their places.
More of my acquaintances are starting to feel spring fever. It may mean a simple happiness or it can be full-blown mania, but only their minds will know the difference. For me, it’s a relieved exhale, to walk amongst paths dodging the newlyweds and prom goers and the expecting moms, all wanting to have their pictures taken under the blooms of the trees. Robins are finding bugs and sparrows gather grass for their nests. You can’t move slow these months because Nature’s creatures are knocking themselves over for the chance to carry their DNA into the next generation. Runners move faster and walkers talk louder, all in a hurry to somewhere and nowhere all at once.
Sophie is now looking outside and chattering because there is a bird on the front yard. In a little while I’ll feed her the same food and she’ll look upon it as if was new again. I’ll look outside to see the wind blow last year’s leaves down the street, while the faintest hint of life is extending from the branches of the sugar maple. I haven’t missed it all yet; there are new things coming forth in the next few months.