Never have I experienced a season as volatile as Spring. It’s a violent struggle between Summer asserting her dominance over Winter while he desperately holds on with his slipping icy grasp. Think about it. Summer is monotonous in its relentless heat. Fall emerges when Summer dies out and Winter quietly takes over. Winter is peaceful – occassionaly broken by the fury of snow. But Spring. Ah, Spring has a temper. Winter is not yet ready to let go of his frozen tundra as Summer sees what she wants and declares it for herself. It is a battle that is drawn out day after day. Once, what was belonging to Winter, now becomes slave to Summer only to return to Winter the next day. Beautiful flowers glow in the sunshine and die overnight in the frost. Huddled in the trees songbirds and mischievous squirrels hide from the cold rain until Summer brings a short lived reprieve. Back and forth the days toss from the memory of Winter to the new reign of Summer. Until, finally, one day Winter loses his tenuous grasp and Summer, in full glory, takes what is rightfully hers.
I’m rooting for Summer. My affair with Winter is over. In the last month I’ve worn everything from tank tops and shorts to jeans, sweaters and rain jackets. There is no packing up of winter clothing – not yet. Today is cold and rainy and I’m wearing jeans and a sweater. In two days time it will be almost 80 degrees outside. Following that? More cold weather.
I really shouldn’t whine too much. My poor Arizona friends are expected to hit 90 today. There will be no more 60 degree days for them until Fall. (All two days of it.)