Spring

If I had to choose one season out of the four as my favorite it would be spring. I love the essence of spring, its aroma, its colors. I love the sound of spring peepers (Pseudacris crucifer), calling out from the pond that lies next to my wife’s herb garden. It’s such a grandiose time, new life is sprouting everywhere. Spring rejuvenates my soul. I’m always amazed by the transformation from the browns and grays of winter, to the sharp contrasting yellows, reds, and whites of spring.

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It might seem depressing when you think about everything that’s going on outside our little slice of real estate; the missing Malaysian jet, Russian aggression, and who knows what else? But the seasons never notice any of it. Trees still leaf out in spring, perennial flowers creep to life, and my grass will keep me busy mowing for the first few weeks of warm weather. And that’s what helps keep me grounded, that and music. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t plant a flower or pick an old guitar every once in a while.

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If I were a collector of sorts, it’d be hard to choose what I would want to collect most: new and rare flowers or new and rare guitars.

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I’d be okay with either. As long as I can still smell and hear spring!

'Mom's' Forsythia
‘Mom’s’ Forsythia
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9 Comments

  1. It’s amazing how many people head for the beach this time of year. I’d much rather walk through a garden and smell the blossoms. Even the smell of garden mud gets me excited. Weird, huh? (Only now I have to rely on my memory of mud, living in the land of sand:) Are those crabapple trees putting on such a magnificent show?

  2. When I lived back east (and experienced real seasons), my favorite season was fall. I loved spring because the cold and snow and gray of winter was finally over and the earth seemed to be going through a rebirth. But autumn, with the heat and humidity of the summer finally over and the beauty of the leaves turning into a rainbow of colors, was the best. But I suppose, since you are a gardener, fall may connote to you the end of the growing season and a marker for the return to the cold and snow and gray of the winter not far behind.

    1. You’re mostly right about how I feel about fall – the harbinger of winter. And yet, those golden colors of autumn that sparkle so bright, if only for a short while, hold my attention even as frost falls. Summers here in western PA are usually not very muggy and hot, but not so in My Old Kentucky Home where the humidity is so thick you can lick it!

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