An Ode To Spring

I’m sick again for the third time in three weeks, though technically I’ve only been “better” for approximately ½ day during the course of those weeks, so I think it’s more accurate to say that I am still sick.  I’m sniffily and sinusy and coughy, which is annoying to me and anyone in the near vicinity (particularly my husband who has to endure my midnight coughing).     Both my children had the flu to kick this latest sick-party off, and have also gone in and out of sniffles and coughs and sore throats … plus random splotches and rashes to boot.     In short, we’re a mess.    Cleaning the house just won’t do; I’m going to have to Lysol-bomb it.    (and we all know about my cleaning abilities).

Anyway, who cares about a cold—it’s not only annoying, it’s boring; my point is that I cannot WAIT for spring to get here for real.  Get here to stay.   Kick winter to the curb until next November.    Blow these sick germs away with its gentle spring breezes.  This past weekend I could really feel it happening—the sun was shining, the temperatures were rising, young green buds were showing up on the trees and springing from the ground.     Last night we kept our windows open and in return were greeted by the morning welcome of the birds.   Winter has been cruel and mischievous this year, giving us nearly a foot of snow not three weeks ago, so I don’t want to let down my guard completely, but the real changing of the seasons just might be upon us.   And with it, I can literally feel my shoulders relax and my lungs expand.     I can feel myself and those around me breathing a collective sigh of relief.     Spring.

And I want to just mark my gratitude for the Spring—I want to say out loud “THANK YOU SPRING!  I APPRECIATE YOU RIGHT NOW AND I’VE MISSED YOU A LOT!  WINTER HAS BEEN A BIG OL’ JERK THIS YEAR AND I REALLY DON’T WANT TO PLAY WITH HIM ANYMORE” because I know soon enough I’ll forget, and I’ll find myself complaining about Spring things, like the spiders that make their way into our house or the rains that continue to fall.   Then Summer will arrive and I’ll shout HOORAY! for the coming of cook-outs and long days, but then soon enough will moan about the heat and the bees.    My appreciation for the seasons is fleeting—I really do become much too complainy much too quickly.    I’m too hot or too cold or I’ve been cooped up inside too long or I’ve been forced to play outside too long.   The sun sets to early or stays up too late.    If I was Mother Nature I would say to me “Seriously, Erika?”  Sorry, Mother Nature.  I know you’re doing your best.

So here, today, I say Thank You Spring.     You are wonderful.  I will dance in your new grass in my bare feet; I will welcome your breezes into my house through open windows; I will splash in the puddles that your showers leave behind; I will (try) to smile about the critters and crawlers that are exploring a new world, even if that new world happens to accidentally be inside my house.

Is it Spring where you are?  How can you say Thank You to it today?