Return of Spring

     (Note: This column appeared in the May-June 1990 issue of Hortons’ Country Reader, a magazine that we published for a couple of years.)

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    As I begin this piece I’m sitting in my backyard, just outside the sliding glass door. It’s seven o’clock in the morning, and the warm weather has been with us, here in Michigan, for a few days now. 

    The morning air, with a faint breeze, is tepid, signaling another hot day (predictions of 80 degrees or more) and since it’s still April, no doubt eventually some stormy weather will arrive.  What’s more enjoyable are the sounds and sights of our long-awaited return of spring.  The morning is filled with a chorus of birds – chirps, whistles, warbles, shrills, and so on.  Most emanate from the small woodlot that borders our yard.  Over on the edge of the lawn are newly-sprung daffodils – a cluster of yellow and another of white. 

     The grass, looking a bit shaggy since I’ve yet to mow it, is turned an emerald green from healthy dosages of sun and rain.  The first cutting, scheduled this Sunday, will again launch a weekly ritual that lasts until the snow flies.

    These first days of spring have brought me, and others, out of our winter hibernation; out of heated offices and established indoor routines that dominated thought and effort these past winter months.

     Spring is supposed to rejuvenate us, and it does.  But it also finds many of us “desk jockeys” out of shape, physically and mentally, for the resumption of outdoor activities.  So I find myself feeling a bit tired from these initial ventures outside, even though the yard chores were far from strenuous. 

    I guess, like a ball player, some of us need some spring training before we tackle the major league season. 

     Perhaps also a bit tiring is looking around the backyard, as well as front and sides, and mentally noting all of the projects demanding attention; work and maintenance not done last fall when time ran out and tasks that are now a priority due to winter’s ravishes.  None are overwhelming and, once started, will become at first challenging and then accomplishment.  But the pile is always highest as you sit and study it, and not nearly as daunting once you begin lowering it. 

    One unique and enjoyable aspect to this particular spring is son, Bradley.  At 18 months, now walking, his unsteady romps around the yard are a delight.  This is his first spring of discovery, examining bushes and flowers, hearing those same birds I do, experiencing the exuberance of this season that allows him to leave the confines of the house and heavy jackets for the greener pastures of our lawn and short pants.

   Sitting, watching him, I wonder what most impresses and dazzles him? What handiwork of Mother Nature most readily captures this 18-month-old little boy’s budding mind and imagination? Is it the minute details like scurrying ants in a small patch of sand or a colorful flower on the bush; the feel of grass, or even some dead leaves in the flower bed by the house?

     Or is he dazzled by the whole panorama before him – the vast array that is spread out awaiting his examination?  There have been countless returns of spring before, countless little boys (and little girls) who have experienced their first one, and countless moms and dads who have relished the sight and pondered the meaning and substance.  Now it’s our turn.