We go about our business even though we know that it’s just around the corner. The days are a little longer, and the chill is almost gone. The groundhog had his annual show, but no one remembers how it ended. Still, something starts to quicken in our souls.
We almost remember a familiar fragrance on the breeze. We stir out of winter sleep and into soft focus. Is the backyard tree starting to bud? Our vision becomes sharper. Those really are dragonflies in the garden. Suddenly, we see with startling clarity, and we rejoice.
Why does spring seem to sneak up on us? We don’t care; we’re just grateful that it always does. Perhaps the transition from deep cold into a slow thaw is to blame. It doesn’t matter because the moment springtime arrives, we are brilliantly aware.
That fragrance on the breeze belongs to every flower from cherry blossoms in Washington to magnolias in the deep South. The bird songs are sweet and clear just like our sense of the season. We are at our very best every spring, full of renewed life and eternal optimism.
We plant our gardens knowing that the flowers will be beautiful this year. The crack of a bat and that first home run are sure signs that there’s a pennant in the future. Sweaters go back in the drawer, snow shovels disappear, and picnics are on the schedule.
Children’s smiles are as warm as the sunshine, reflecting the glow in our hearts. The bleating lamb on wobbly legs gives us hope that everything new will thrive. We believe that anything is possible this time of year, because it always is and always will be. We celebrate spring because it makes our hopes eternal.