Having grown up in South Florida, we had only two seasons to offer: pre-Spring and Summer. Admittedly, it is green, dare I say, verdant, most of the year, with lovely hibiscus and bougainvillea in perpetual bloom. And, I'm rather a fan of palm trees. However, there is just something about a change of seasons. I was a quarter-of-a-century old when we moved from balmy Palm Beach to Tallahassee, better known as "Florida with a Southern Accent". And "hotter than blue blazes" in the summer time. It's basically like walking into a 350-degree pre-heated oven and camping out. For four months. H--O--T!
However, there was a slight change of seasons in Garnet and Gold Town. The leaves turned color. The air was brisk. Just in time for football season. Winter was cold. It actually snowed once. But, it was mostly just cold. Spring brought the azaleas alive and set off allergy season for some folks. But, the true seasonal experience change lay ahead of us.
Two years in Central Pennsylvania, including the 2003 winter SuperStorm where 24 inches of snow fell in 24 hours, would introduce this Floridian to seasons. Seasons with a capital "S". Fall was gorgeous--and yes, I would pull off the road, gather up a handful of burnished red, gold, and amber leaves, put them in a handy-dandy Ziploc (I learned to keep those in my glove compartment for such a time as that), and take them home to gaze in awe and wonder. And send pictures South. But, as all Northerners well know, such color in fall is the gateway to winter. Gray and white. Gray and white. I threatened to paint our third-floor apartment walls sunshine yellow--because the standard "we're not sure how long we'll be in PA" apartment color palette is...you guessed it. Gray and white. It was a looong winter. Did I mention that He Who Is Now Taller Than I was an infant? Yup.
Yet, when those petite golden daffodils began poking their heads up and the trees began to bud, it was glorious. As in the dictionary definition of glorious: "having a striking beauty or splendor that evokes feelings of delighted admiration". Feelings of delight (and relief!) were evoked, I tell you. The colors were vibrant, promising, and rich. After five months of monochromatic blah, it was like that moment when "The Wizard of Oz" goes technicolor.
Thus, I acquired my appreciation for *Spring. And said season became my favorite. Our neck of the woods puts on a lovely *Spring. Dogwoods, azaleas, daylillies, trillium, iris, and more. And, yes, for those seasonal allergy sufferers, it means Singulair and Zyrtec. But, 'tis a small price to pay for such loveliness.
|The first rose of Spring.|
|Beautiful--compliments of a dear friend.|
“That is one good thing about this world...there are always sure to be more springs.”
― L.M. Montgomery,
― L.M. Montgomery,
Photo Credits: Mini-Hooper