Spring (at last!) 2010

Spring can properly be seen as nature’s re-awakening after months of having been shrouded in winter’s icy breath. No politician can lay claim to the miracle, though many might try. In our part of the world, spring is eagerly anticipated – its sudden explosion of color, its warmth, its bird song; the shedding of unwieldy jackets, scarves and sweaters; and lower heating bills.

The first sign of spring this year was the rain. For the first time in a long while the stuff that fell from the sky didn’t have to be scraped off the driveway. Then crocuses began to appear just as the last of the snow melted on our lawns. Next, forsythia burst into flaming color, followed by various types of decorative cherry. White, gossamer Star Magnolia blossoms preceded fleshy Magnolia. Tulips and Hyacinths suddenly appeared in freshly dug beds next to the foundations of homes. Fields of yellow daffodils rivaled the sun. The Bradford Pear trees lining Morris Avenue in downtown Elizabeth (NJ) burst into white orbs, lending a distressed neighborhood its several days of dignity.

This year, we are blessed. Often, spring showers turn to deluge and beat tender blossoms into the ground almost as soon as they appear. This spring, the rains came early. A run of stable weather assures us of a prolonged season in which to enjoy our spring spectacle.

People show up at arboretums, parks and botanical gardens in droves - with children and camera kits in tow. Some travel as far as our nation’s capital – not to protest, but to join in the celebration of renewal among the world-famous Japanese cherry blossoms.

Spring represents the botanical Big Bang that repeats annually. Professional landscapers, however, know how to keep the botanical fireworks going throughout the year. They see to it that every month new, colorful blooms emerge. It all ends as spectacularly as it began, when the leaves explode into the stunning colors of fall.

Most of the world doesn’t have seasons as distinct as ours. Most visitors from such regions are impressed by what they see here. Our seasons have become the stuff of legend all over the globe. The last time my nephew (who lives in Brazil) was here, it was the dead of winter. He just arrived yesterday again. I can’t wait to see his reaction to what might catch his eye this time around.

I myself have spent many years taking our seasons for granted. It sometimes takes someone else’s eyes to open our own. No doubt, with the lengthening of days, we all feel better about things. But do we actually realize that we are feeling better? Are we awake enough to recognize the synthesis between how we feel and the state of what philosopher, Alan Watts, has termed our “external organs”? Do we allow ourselves the luxury of feeling reborn at the very same time that nature all around us beckons us to a fresh start?

Peter Koelliker; pkoelliker8@yahoo.com