Spring Has Sprung!

Glorious, Spectacular, Rejuvinating, Invigorating, Humbling - 

SPRING! 

Over time, my back has deteriorated, so, each morning I go sit in our hot tub just outside the bedroom door. I do it Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring. I do it for the warm womb-like feeling it provides. I do it because it’s now become a habit, but I also do it because it provides me the solitude to think through problems – life problems and literary conundrums. I also do it because it provides me a window on the seasons. 

In Summer, the warmth of the tub precludes the heat of the day. In the Fall, I cheerfully watch the colors change and sadly watch the falling of the leaves. In the Winter, I plod through the snow and glory in the bubbling current while all about me nature is clothed in white. But in Spring ... ah Spring ... my senses are treated to the inevitable, long awaited, seasonal feast of rebirth! 

Spring is a good word for this remarkable season.

I watch vibrant green spring forth from the surrounding trees. I listen to the children going to school, their enthusiastic voices springing forth from the doldrums of winter. I watch the squirrels spring forth in the trees and rabbits spring forth from the grass, the former to root out and eat the bulbs in my garden, the latter to eat the leafy greens in my garden (Stupid squirrels – stupid rabbits). At the same time bird song springs forth from all my trees and the bushes. Their avian chatter I imagine covers the infrequent loading of our bird feeding station, calls to mate and plans for nesting sites. I sometimes get so excited watching and listening as they call to one another that I answer back. 

Through the long, cold, desolate months of winter I long for this period when nature springs forth, impatient to get on with the vital act of living, of interacting, of reproducing. I am just as impatient. For years I have tilled and prepared and planted my various gardens too early. I battle the cold snaps my impatience forces me to endure. And speaking of endurance, I must endure my wife’s annual reminder of, “I told you it was too early to plant.” But I do it anyway, thrilling to the arrival of little green shoots, then grieving when they shrivel because of late frosts. 

The Greeks created and celebrated a wonderful tale about the beautiful Persephone to explain the changing of the seasons. It is a tale revolving around love and lost love. The Romans created several festivals calling attention to the glory of Spring, the most colorful and joyous being that of Floralia. The ancient Celts celebrated the spring equinox which they called the Ostara, a time of renewal and rebirth when the dreary winter months give way to warmth and rebirth. Christians mark spring with Easter and resurrection. Many Native American cultures also mark Spring as a time of rebirth, but also of migration and decision making.

That sounds right. 

In the Spring we speak a little louder. We step forth more boldly. We dream reckless dreams. We love more deeply. Spring is a dazzling dance which our souls long for through the dark dragging days of winter and when it finally arrives, our souls willingly fling themselves into the general jollification with wild abandon. Spring is rebirth, renewal, and resolution all rolled in together. Let me tell you a quick story about that. 

Last year a pair of young purple finches set up housekeeping in a crevice beneath our electric deck awning. Jenny and I knew they were doing it from the vegetable detritus they left beneath their aerial construction. The crevice they chose was cramped and narrow. Jenny and I felt they were young and inexperienced. We thought we would help them find a better place by removing their partially built nest, thinking they’d give up and find a better spot.

Wrong.

As often as we removed their carefully built home, they would rebuild it. Eight times we removed it. Eight times they persistently rebuilt it. In the end their persistence succeeded. We gave up and impossible as it seemed to us, they raised a small family in those cramped quarters. 

This Spring our feathered friends were back again – in the same spot. Wise as we humans are, we decided to help them again. This time we taped a cardboard box into the space to block them and prevent their difficult domicile problems. We knew they would have to look elsewhere.

Wrong.

They persisted for a week, stuffing straw and branches into the nooks and crannies around the box until they finally decided to outsmart us, building a new nest three feet away, still beneath the awning, in an even more cramped situation. Spring! Infectious determination, persistence, unbound enthusiasm, springing forth to make the world right again. 

May your plans for this year be productive. And if they’re not, change ‘em up and try again.  

Happy Spring everyone!