in which I expound on green things

the afternoon sun through our Japanese maple

In the green and gallant Spring, / Love and the lyre I thought to sing, And kisses sweet to give and take / By the flowery hawthorn brake.

~Robert Louis Stevenson

I love spring. Especially after the time change annoyance passes and life settles back into the semblance of a routine.

Except for pollen, I enjoy everything about this lovely season.

It seems like the sun shines brighter than ever although it could be that after the gray dreariness of winter, just turning on the sunshine is bright enough.

There’s something so satisfying in feeling the warmth of the son on my skin, warming me all the way through. (hey! did you see that typo? I’m leaving it in! teehee!).

I love the suddenness of the blooms. One day everything looks gray, and bam! the next time I pay attention the Magnolias are in full bloom, the cherry trees are pink and lovely, and even the blasted Bradford pears look pretty if I remember not to get too close.

I especially love the green. It is a baby green. Fresh. Alive. New. By the time summer arrives the greens are a mature, dark, mellow color, but now they are screaming new life in a way that gets my attention.

That first realization of the green around me heralds the beginning of spring better than any date on a calendar. It happens at different times, always unexpected. It is the suddenness of it, though, that renders me speechless.

I wonder how long spring has really been around me before I recognize it. I don’t like the thought of being so busy or distracted that I don’t have the time or inclination to notice the beauty that surrounds me. It gives me pause.

And then I get over it and revel in the beauty of the green.


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