In many ways, Spring is appropriately named. Its pent-up anticipation prior to the arrival of the equinox is akin to that of a child, Christmas morning, held back, unable to run to the tree to open his or her gifts. There are a few signs: snowdrop and muscari bulbs emerging, the slight greening of willows, and early migrating birds on the feeders. But while Spring may have arrived, its packages have yet to be unwrapped. The burst of growth, color, and scent has yet to come as most trees and bushes are bare.
April rains and warmer temperatures prep us for its arrival. With every successive day, buds fatten up, flies start to swarm, flowers and tiny leaves begin to show themselves. Then magically in a single week, sometimes days, an explosion of growth happens transforming a mat of grayish sticks into a blanket of color. Pollen, scents and countless insects fill the air reminding me that I am far from alone.
The word Spring emerged anywhere from 800-1000 years ago from the Old English word “springan,” which means “to leap, burst forth, fly up; spread, grow.” To me, after a long Winter, it means “it’s about time.”
