Spring is my absolute, most favourite, longed-for season. Unfortunately, it has been elusive this year. For some reason, winter has stretched and lingered and seemed interminable. Though temperatures began to creep up haltingly in the last weeks, grey days and rain showers have been the norm.
On occasion, the sun ventures to shine, and my hopes rise: here comes spring!! But within a matter of minutes the clouds build up and the sun is chased away once again.
Sunny interludes have become precious and never taken for granted. Seize the moment! Work in the yard or gardens begins, the sun warm on my face. Removing dead leaves and debris isn’t a chore, rather an opportunity to inspect shrubs for new growth and revel in the miracle of rebirth.
When time allows and the sun appears I head out on my favourite walk down the road to the lake and loop back again. It’s a familiar route, but ever-changing.
This week I wondered if I could capture signs of spring. Tentatively, yet unmistakably, buds on bushes were beginning to burst. Camera in hand, I capture first one shot, then a few more, my heart uplifted with delight.
I continue on my way, pausing to listen. A reclaimed marsh along the lake resonates with chirps and trills. I settle on a bench, stilling myself in order to glimpse the flicker of birds among the grasses.
Spring and birdsong remind me of the one and only poem I ever memorized. I have no idea what grade I was in, though I remember it was elementary school. I wasn’t especially keen on poetry, so endured the lessons half-heartedly. However, one poem captured my attention, because it was so unusual. I memorized it, despite myself:
Der spring is sprung,
Der grass is riz,
I wonder where dem boidies is?
Der little boids is on der wing.
Ain’t dat absoid?
Der little wings is on der boid!
I love everything about spring: buds on bushes, birds on branches, rebirth, hope, renewal, and a crazy little poem.
What is spring like in your corner of the world?