Spring in the country is my favorite time of year. The snow melts, the dirt I love becomes mud, the trees bud, the tulips push up from a long rest through the earth. Green, the color of hope, unfolds exponentially each day, slowly overtaking the brown that has held the countryside captive since October. This is my first spring in the city. I have to admit, I had low expectations. Make that, have low expectations. I mean, there are no mile long fields of mud to watch haze over green when the corn comes up. All my favorite trees and bushes are an hour an a half away where I can't check on them every day and see how much life grew since the day before. Cement and concrete don't care what season it is, they are always grey. Yesterday I walked to my errands because I couldn't stand the thought of paying $3.75 a gallon for gas and missing the sunshine. I was almost back to the apartment when I saw it.
Nothing trumpets "Spring is coming!" like dandelions. And apparently not even miles and miles of cement and concrete are enough to keep them from making their announcement in the city. My hope has sprung. Maybe spring in the city will be an adventure after all....
Great post Honey...Today Benji and I drove past a field where the waterways had just been disked...I wish you could have smelled it too..that gloriously heady smell of fresh turned earth...
ReplyDeleteNot to worry, Rosie has been checking the progress of the budding trees for you...but the city must have something to offer, because I haven't seen a single dandelion yet!