Ode to Spring

For some reason, this spring’s beauty seems to have lingered a little longer; a reward for surviving another winter---a winter whose swirling snow and frigid air has already faded from memory. We were just complaining a moment ago, wondering if spring would ever come, and now we’re stuffing sweaters away for next year and digging out our favorite summer t-shirts.

The flowering trees—dogwoods and whatever the heck the other ones might be—the pink and white and purple clouds scattered down the sidestreets hover just a little longer before the blossoms rain down, coating the lawn with their color—yet one more spring treat.

It’s a cliché, but darned if our yard isn’t perfumed by the lilacs in the neighbor’s yard—a pleasant smack in the nose when we walk out the door and head for the car to go to work. Just a reminder that wonderful things are going on despite our conceit that we are in control.

Just for a moment, it’s OK that dandelions dot the landscape. Right now they are part of the whole panorama of color that comes with spring. Tomorrow I will murder them in their sleep.