The Call To Spring Forward

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Featured in the Dayton Daily News

The other morning, I walked outside to retrieve the newspaper at the end of my driveway. Enfolding my robe tight to stall the infusion of the early morning chill, I was unaware of everything but my tired fleece-lined slippers.  For some reason my gaze was drawn upward, and suddenly I was stopped in my tracks.  There, painted across the early morning sky was a masterpiece of color also known as the sunrise. It was as if the angels took broad brush in celebration of a new day. Blues, violets and sunbeams burst redefined.  Coincidentally, this new day was now part of Spring.  “It’s time to wake up!” the boldness seemed to scream. I heard it loud and clear.A few months ago, I wrote about the coziness of winter, and for me, the desire to remain tucked amidst all things yummy. Now, with the emergence of Spring, the realm outside my kitchen window is beckoning. There’s a reason we call the clock change “Spring Forward.” Our recent snowfall reminds us that winter has not yet made its final curtain call, but the invitation to move forward has been noted.  Unlike the darkness of January when Spring feels like it will never come, these lighter days of Daylight Savings feel different.  After all, the prolonged sunlight reminds us that Spring is guaranteed… eventually. It will show up, even though I stand by my annual prediction that April will see a dusting of flurries.  Regardless, Spring never gives up as we see the braveness of buds rise despite the nippy greeting of chilled air.

Spring is about sifting through and beginning again. My husband’s ceremonial walk around the yard each early Spring takes stock of Winter’s remnants. Fallen branches need to be cleared. Appreciation of tulip buds make us pause. Deck stain may need a refresher coat, rakes need to resurface the old to make room for new seedlings. Robins are busy constructing nests (inevitably in my front door wreath), hyacinths bud their leaves beneath still barren trees. And best of all, the sun now hangs around a bit more each day. In short, we are invited to the party.

Any call to change is intimidating, but Spring reminds us that transformation happens one leaf at a time. Find some color in your closet. Dust off your walking shoes. Keep your sunglasses handy, and apply sunscreen. Soon, newly picked strawberries will beg for a bit of whipped cream. Gardens will be laced with crisp lettuces waiting for a dress of lemon juice and olive oil. Begonias and impatiens will line the outdoor garden centers. Walks around the neighborhood will offer the opportunity to reconnect with neighbors. My mom used to say, “If winter comes, Spring is never far behind.” She shared these words as a metaphor with people who had troubled hearts. Her message was the same as that offered by the early morning sky. Newness is eventual just like the sunrise after the dark of night. As we move into Spring, those whispers of hope remind us that the world is far greater than the winter cocoons we create for ourselves. The butterfly in all of us awaits.