... an annual lift to our spirits
Vivid fuschia bougainvillea blossoms jostle one another for space on the drooping branches. Tall palms flutter their graceful fans in the tropical breeze. Hibiscus blooms appear like flames on dark green bushes. This scene greets me as I travel in Mexico. All year round the gardens are lush, flowers are visible. Only two seasons exist. Wet and dry.
People of Mexico are always in summer, their passions and tempers matching their hot weather. They are constantly surrounded by brilliant color and brightness. But they miss our season of spring – the physical and mental peak of the year when the promise of change can be seen and heard and touched and smelled.
Every year New Englanders experience a change of heart. March sweeps in like a lion complaining of late snows, grumbling about gray days, gray skies, gray moods. We are tired of being bundled up against the harshness of a northern winter. Suddenly a lone robin hops across our brown lawn. A tiny white crocus pushes up through crunchy fallen leaves. The promise of new life is acted out before our very eyes.
We have had a down time – then the brilliant forsythia bursts out to raise our spirits. Pleasant aromas of sweet lilac and spicy viburnum add a sensual surprise to the season. Birds delight us with their territorial melodies in preparation for new families. Even the pesky dandelions shout a cheerful goodbye to ice and snow. Sometimes the breezes of spring remind us of the winds of winter, but the dazzling tulips and sunny daffodils stand fast, swaying bravely until calm returns.
Then gray time becomes green time. As the grass turns color and white petals drop from the apple trees, innumerable textures and shades of green greet the eye for our personal enjoyment. There is a lilt in our walk and a smile in our hearts – spring is here.
June 2, 2006