Everything these days is over hyped, so it’s not surprising we become so easily jaded and cynical when the newest and latest blah-de-blah is announced. And if anything seemed over hyped to me this past month, it’s been the arrival of Spring.
A few days ago was the first “official” day of Spring, although the way they’ve been pushing its imminent arrival since last October, I was more than sceptical. So the clocks went forward an hour last night; big deal. Oh sure, we’ve had daffodils pretty much since the beginning of the month and the crocuses were out even earlier than usual, but I’m not one to fall for things that easily.
And yet, and yet…
Meg’s had quite a bad bout of tonsillitis recently and today was the first day we felt it would probably be OK for her to leave the house, if she was suitably wrapped up, of course. I’ve felt rather housebound myself for a few days so the 2 of us went for a walk in Laurieston Wood, a few miles from here, to get a breath of fresh air.
It was wonderful.
It was still early enough in the year for the midges to be absent, and late enough in the afternoon for the dog-walkers to have gone home, so we pretty much had the place to ourselves. The sun was shining through the trees, the temperature was up into double figures, and the smells; oh the smells. Woody smells of pine trees, damp fallen branches, lichens, moss and undergrowth. And the sounds of the wind in the treetops, the birds singing and the stream running over the rocks.
It tapped into something quite primeval; a part of the soul that responds to the changing seasons; where the caress of the sun on the skin is like the re-acquaintance of an old and missed friend.
I’ve always struggled with winter, with its long dark nights, cold wind and incessant rain. After a few months its easy to forget its possible to have days where you don’t have to stick an extra layer on under the coat before leaving the house or have the heating in the car set as high as the dial will allow.
Today was my first day of Spring, and I nearly wept.