Welcome to spring
It took years of living in (what most call) the land of eternal summer to recognize the subtle indications of spring. Now that I recognize it, it seems as obvious as the first purple Crocus breaking through the snow.
It begins about the same way every year. We have a week or two of gloomy skies just before the time change (even this year when the time change moved); and then one morning, the clouds break, the sky is brilliant, and the morning air is soft. Within a week, rose leaves spring from their woody stumps, baby leaves illuminate the backyard trees, and the gardens begin to grow again…even this year, when freezing temperatures leveled many of my beloved plants.
We exchange the small room heater in our bedroom for a box fan, and we leave the windows open late into the evening because the air feels good, not because we seared a steak without the exhaust fan on. It’s subtle, but it all happens within weeks.
Home
It begins about the same way every year. We have a week or two of gloomy skies just before the time change (even this year when the time change moved); and then one morning, the clouds break, the sky is brilliant, and the morning air is soft. Within a week, rose leaves spring from their woody stumps, baby leaves illuminate the backyard trees, and the gardens begin to grow again…even this year, when freezing temperatures leveled many of my beloved plants.
We exchange the small room heater in our bedroom for a box fan, and we leave the windows open late into the evening because the air feels good, not because we seared a steak without the exhaust fan on. It’s subtle, but it all happens within weeks.
Home
Labels: spring