All the great poets have their take on spring. ee cummings presented wonderful imagery in ‘chanson innocente’-- all that "puddle-licious" stuff.
And April is the cruelest month and Blake and Sara Teasdale and Shelley and "spring has sprung, the grass is riz, in wonder where the birdies is" all remind us that spring is coming.
What does spring mean to a random babbler of truth in a flyover state who mostly doesn't Do Outside?
1 It means I can open the windows for about a week and a half before plasma draining humidity sucks the life out of my body and I have to shut the windows again so I can breathe.
2 I can clean the garage – translated, I take the electric blower and blow all the dust and dirt out onto the front yard. Actually Husband does this, but I'm taking the credit.
3 Chocolate bunnies, jelly beans, Reese cup eggs, and Peeps.
4 Must remove ironing board and laundry baskets from son’s room as nest won’t be empty in six weeks.
5 Hamburgers on the gas grill, charred cattle flesh smokin' with carcinogens and covered with ketchup, mustard, red Big Boy tomatoes, and romaine lettuce
6 Daylight Savings Time, driving home from work with all the other drones while it is still light
7 Only six more months of NBA season. Aren’t the playoffs in August now?
8 Raking the neighborhood drains with a garden rake, so spring rains and winter gunk don’t flood the yards in the neighborhood (Boy, am I a site in my winter boots. And this one I actually do, because I like my reputation as the Neighborhood Nut who only Comes Outside to Rake the Drains.)
9 Jonquils bursting forth in my front yard, roses blooming on a vine next to our mailbox, hostas reoccurring on our front courtyard, and me staying inside writing about them.
10 Ozone alerts (see number 1)
11 Tastee Freeze opening in a few weeks. Can you say orange and pineapple soft serve in an old-fashioned pointed cone, where on hot days you bite off the end and suck out the soft serve until your brain freezes?
Bring on summer. I can take it. It will be here in about two weeks.