The Winsome Smile of Spring
After a long, morose winter with never-ending rain (and snow to many) and cold, the advent of spring brings great joy and wonder. My friend Peggy lives on a nearby farm. By February and March, all the animals were birthing. Adorable little goats and white lambs skipping around the pen and nursing from their mommies, not to mention calves in the pasture. Daffodils line the driveway, ornamental trees are blossoming. Color is everywhere, the pungent smell of grass and manure is somehow comforting. There is constant movement in the gardens by bees, birds, and butterflies. It's glorious.
I am not a gardener because I unwittingly kill anything that grows in soil. So I enjoy everyone else's spring gardens.
Every February I thrill when crocus push their way up on my lawn. "Spring will be here before you know it," they seem to say. Then the first robin appears on my lawn. Then they flock and spend a long while pecking at whatever is in my grass that they like to eat. I have always loved robins. They remind me of my childhood growing up in Tacoma, Washington. Yesterday the cable guy was here and I left the door open so he could go in and out. When he left I heard something buzzing. I figured it was a fly, but I found a bumblebee on my couch. Another reminder of childhood. I scooped him up in a tissue very gently and let him go.
Spring also has its miseries. Allegra, Flonase, Visine, nettie pots, and Kleenex never quite get rid of the hay fever, but manage to take the edge off. The pollen was so thick on my car this morning it could easily have been snow. I will not wash my car until the pollen leaves. The blackberries and scotch broom are going crazy. I'm highly allergic to the scotch broom. My mother used to put it in bouquets when I was a kid. What was she thinking?
I wrote this poem recently expressing my thoughts about spring.
The Winsome Smile of Spring
The winsome smile of spring I see
As I spy a crocus pop its head
And spot little pink buds on a sprig
And a returning robin’s breast of red
The whimsy play of butterflies
Flitting and fluttering, here and there
The humming of busy fat bumble bees
Pollinating with purpose and flair
The whispering breezes have arrived
And the clouds pour copious showers
The sun comes out and spreads its beams
Evidence of God’s mighty powers
The wriggling births of newborn creatures
Hungry baby birds chirping for worms
Exiting cocoons with earnestness
With wiggles, writhings, and eager squirms
The woeful advent of allergies
From thick yellow coatings of pollen
Runny eyes, noses, and wheezing too
Leave us feeling crummy and rotten
The wondrous glory of springtime come
Far outweighs hay fever and sneezing
The splendor of blossoms and bouquets
And verdant leaves shiny and gleaming
The whizbang thrill of the season
Never fails our expectations
It simply is not possible
To miss all its inspirations
© 2020 Lori Colbo