When I was a child, the only season I liked was Summer. I loved it when it was HOT. I loved wearing flip-flops (although back then, we called them thongs), and cut off jean shorts, and t-shirts. I loved, loved, loved swimming. I loved running everywhere - with no destination in mind. I loved the smell of the heat. I loved running through the sprinkler. I loved going out to the swing set and playing for hours. I loved going outside and feeling the cool grass on my skin. I loved having so much time to write (I loved writing poetry and stories. People expected me to grow up and be a writer. Well, I was a technical writer once upon a time, but I don't think that's what most people had in mind. And I write here. And there is that book that I'm sort of working on, but it isn't fiction. Anyway . . .)
But the older I get, the more I am able to appreciate Spring and Autumn. And I'm even getting to appreciate (not enjoy, but appreciate) Winter. Spring MIGHT even be my favorite now. There is just something that just makes me so happy as the earth, my neighbors, my children seem to just burst out in the Spring. And while I don't love cleaning anytime of year, something about Spring makes doing a big old fashioned Spring Cleaning, dare I say, almost enjoyable?
I even got to get out my favorite shoes again! Anybody who known me the past couple of years, knows that I have some black clogs. A very exciting find at the local Goodwill. They are Born clogs, and had I purchased them new, they would have gone for about $90. I got them for $2, and they were in fantastic shape. I've had them for two years now, and I wear them at least 2-3 times a week for 9 months out of the year. I don't, however, wear them in the winter. Illinois definitely gets snow and ice in the winter, and they just aren't practical for Winter. But now that (hopefully!) the danger of snow is past us, I got them out again, and I tell you, I fell in love with them all over again.
The daffodils in the backyard are starting to sprout (no blooms yet though) and the grass is green. And I'm hopeful that the hydrangeas will bloom this year (long story. I pruned when I shouldn't have . . . and I haven't seen blooms in two years now. Hoping that I will this year. Please.)
And then of course, there is Easter. A time of Remembrance of Sacrifice and Renewal.
So many good things.
But as with so many things in life, there is some sad with joy. The beginning of Spring, March 28th, is the birthday of our second son. And the day that he died. This year, it marks the 2nd year since he left. The first year, it was painful to see Spring all around. But each year, it gets a little easier. I like to think he would have wanted me to see Spring and realize that I should still have Hope. And Faith. Because every year, even after it being so cold, so grey, so dark, Spring comes.
The housekeeping of gardening
1 day ago