Spring is a time of awakening.
The first and most obvious sign is the days getting longer. Sunset is later each day, sunrise is earlier each morning. The sun seems brighter too, moving in a higher arc across the sky. The birds that have been quiet for months start greeting the day, and singing throughout.
The days are warmer, temperatures rising steadily.
With the warmer weather the grass has started to grow rapidly, forming high clumps in some spots and a lush, level green carpet in others, dotted with the purples of violets, larkspur, and henbit, and the bright yellow of dandelions.
Looks like the poison ivy is back too.
The dandelions form cottony heads then send their seeds sailing out into the world.
Leaves start to bud out from trees, oaks forming tassels that dangle and blow in the breeze.
Cars, driveways, and streets are covered with a yellow-green powder as the budding trees spread their pollen.
You could get allergies just from looking at it.
Spring storms are especially intense. Powerful thunderheads sweep across the country propelled forward by high winds.
A light sprinkle turns into a heavy downpour. The sky darkens and then, suddenly, a crack of lighting illuminates everything brilliant white.
It’s hail all right.
Creeks and other waterways overflow, yards are sodden.
The next day the sun comes out as though none of it happened, but there are puddles where robins, bluejays, and cardinals splash and play.
Why is there a bumblebee in the basement? It probably won’t sting if I duck around it and it seems fixated on the bulb in the ceiling, but, still, why?
I should do something about that spare tire. The one in the backyard that collects rainwater, but also the one that hangs over my belt.
Then a new morning dawns and with it a new sensation. Just below the ribs. Itching.
Oh, great, of course, this early in the season and I’ve already got mosquito bites.
All this awakening makes me want to go back to bed.