Friday, March 23, 2012


When I was a little girl I would count the days until Spring... until the first purple crocus appeared to tell me that other flowers would soon follow. I knew, not long after, I would see daffodils and tulips and I knew just were to go to find the thickest carpet of pretty little violets. I used to think I was the only person in the world who knew those little violets were there. It was a ritual.

I miss that ritual. It has been many years since we have lived somewhere with four distinct seasons. I have always felt that when you grow up with seasons it becomes a part of you. Something in you still moves to the rhythm of winter giving way to spring and summer slipping into fall. Even without a calendar, something deep inside tells you that, somewhere, golden maple leaves are falling or the smallest crocus has pushed up through the snow.

Despite this internal knowing, I still long for the outward signs. I have resigned myself to waiting... realizing that one day we will have seasons again. I know, for now, I should enjoy the land of no-real-winter-to-speak-of. Roses in January are still lovely, after all.

A few evenings ago, I stood staring at the expanse of lawn in front of our house. I was envisioning the new bed that will go there (I'm thinking gardenias are needed). Just then, the breeze picked up and filled the air with such sweetness. The jasmine that grows beside our house was blooming and oh my, what a scent. The little girl in me said "Spring!" and I realized that whether it's jasmine or daffodils, it certainly smelled like the season had changed. And maybe we don't have crocuses or violets, but we do have a hidden patch of some nameless purple flower that seems to have bloomed overnight in the corner of our yard. Obviously, planted by fairies according to a certain nine year old who knows a great deal about such things.

So once again I'm surprised. Surprised that everyday it feels a bit more like "home" when I most adamantly insisted it never could. And surprised that even if I wasn't counting the days, Spring still found me.

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