As a kid, my favorite season was always fall. Not just for the crisp air and gorgeous colors, but also because it meant new beginnings. New school year, new (to me) clothes, school supplies, teachers and (hopefully) new friends as well. It probably doesn’t hurt that my birthday is in the fall too. 🙂
As I’ve grown older though and am myself no longer tied so much to the school calendar, fall has meant something else to me.
Winter is coming.
Every day gets shorter and colder, and snow isn’t too far behind. And even though I still love the early part of fall, the second half I definitely could do without. Late October and November in Michigan are cold, rainy and devoid of any color whatsoever, except for the gray skies, the brown leaves left un-raked, and the white snowflakes starting to fall. Instead of snow days and sledding, winter now means slippery roads and shoveling. Not to mention bundling up antsy, cabin-feverish kids every morning and night.
Not one of these things is a favorite of mine.
Instead, I have begun to anticipate the arrival of spring every year with a longing that never seemed possible before. The first sights of green poking up through the earth improve my mood immensely, and just hearing a bird chirping can brighten up my day. Seeing the temperatures rise and the clouds give way to blue skies and sunshine – it’s hard to describe the feeling, but it must be somewhat akin to what a hibernating bear feels when it emerges outside from its winter sleep.
Spring means new beginnings, sunshine, playing outside with the girls, the beautiful colors as my lilac bush blooms and the sweet smell of cherry and apple blossoms from down the street.
As March turns to April this year, I am waiting impatiently for spring. We’ve felt small hints of it – a warm breeze here, the sighting of a robin there. But the cold and wind (and snow!) are only reluctantly letting go of their grip and for each day that we can wear spring jackets and put away the snow boots, there are more where we must bundle back up again.
I do know that sooner or later, spring will arrive. It has to. It must. Everything will turn green and colorful again and the girls and I will be able to play outside in the evenings, ride bikes and swing in the backyard.
Spring will get here, eventually.