Spring Surprise (300)...

There is a strange phenomenon that I notice every year about this time and it fascinates me. It captures the joy and the mystery of Earth's dance and every year I watch for it. It always happens sometime in late April – after we've had days of sunshine and of rain. The first robins are out and some few flowers have begun color-spotting the slowly greening grass. The birds are back, the days are longer, and the breezes are warmer. It is fully Spring and there is a wild energy in the air that makes finishing school difficult for the little ones and big ones alike. The teachers seem nearly as distracted as their students. Everyone is counting days. We throw open the windows and let the fresh air into rooms too long closed tight. Through those windows comes the earthly smell of freshly cut grass. Homeowners begin the grumbling anthem of yard-work and the buzz of a distant mower accompanies every Saturday and Sunday afternoon. All of these celebrate the rebirth of Mother Earth, Magna Mater. In our deep collective unconscious, we wait for it to awaken us from the winter stagnation that makes February seem far crueler than April. As these days – some teasingly chilly, some strangely warm – roll one after the other, I watch. I'm waiting for that phenomenon that comes every year, and every year I miss it in a way. For on one day, let's say it is a Thursday, I drive down my tree-lined street and the trees have nothing much to show of themselves. When Friday dawns, however, there are leaves abundant and the road is suddenly swathed in green. Somehow, overnight, Spring has dressed their barren branches and quietly surprised me with this lovely moment once again. And I love her for it.