Summoning Spring

As some of you may know, New York can be notorious for a frozen, thirty degree day followed by a sunny and sixty degree day. Today we were blessed with beautiful sunshine and temperatures in the mid-fifties. Being mid-march, it would be foolish to assume that spring has arrived. Still, the sound of mud sucking at my boot heels on squishy ground and the bright green fronds of crocus and tulips pushing through the thaw always excite me. The air smells different. The colors outside are changing from gray and white to browns and greens, the sure signs of a season resurrected. 

My mother pointed out the forsythia behind their house tonight, "See how there's just the faintest tint of color?" "The pussy willows are showing too," says my father. Just these small observations make me eager for warmer weather. Spring. Newness. Birth. Suddenly I feel this need to prepare, to be ready. Is this why we feel the urge for spring cleaning when the weather breaks? We're like mother birds preparing our nests, discarding the old and preparing for the new. Are we ready? Is it time to plant? Bring out the lawn chairs, the picnic tables, the grill - thank God for hamburgers and how did we manage through winter without potato or macaroni salad?!

The most prominent observation with this particular change of season is the clear and blatant cycle of life. From a frozen, stark, empty earth - one similar to death - springs new life. The cycle begins again, as with everything. Perhaps it's meant to be a reminder. One that is so obvious that we never seem to notice except to start making plans for the next season. This too shall end, my friends. This too shall pass...