Spring, the Season of False Hope

I want to love spring. I really do. I mean, it’s supposed to be a time for new beginnings, reawakening, growth, and blossoming. But when I look out my window and see this, it’s hard to buy into the season.

Snow in April

Summer is my favorite season, the season of sun, heat, balmy evenings, and swimming in the sea. Once-a-year homemade Mojitos. Burning sage at night in the charcoal grill to keep mosquitos away, while sipping wine on the patio and watching the moon and stars. Perennial gardens in full bloom and baby vegetables making their way into the world. True, some summers are cool and rainy, but that’s rare.

Autumn is my second favorite season. I love, love the beautiful, bold changing colors of the leaves, the smell of fires stoking in long-unused fireplaces and woodstoves. There’s apple picking and Thanksgiving and jumping in piles of leaves. The streets swarming with trick-or-treaters on Halloween. The shedding of the old to make way for the new.

Winter has its own magic. That first beautiful snowfall. Sitting cozy in the house as a blizzard rages outside. Coming together with family at Christmas, and the promise of the New Year. Sledding and skiing and snow shoeing. Though admittedly by February most of us have had it with the cold and snow, which brings me back to long-awaited spring.

Spring teases us with its promise. When March 21 arrives, we imagine a warm, bright sun arriving, too, maybe getting our hands dirty preparing our gardens. Being able to jog and hike without bundling up. What we often get is dreary, dark days, endless biting wind, and temperatures fluctuating drastically from day to day. Sometimes, yes, we even get snow in April.

True, there are buds starting to appear. I’ve seen several dogwood trees and forsythia bushes beginning to blossom. Why wouldn’t they, when the temperature has climbed to the 60s some days? Daffodils are everywhere, though I wonder how they’ll fare now that they’re covered with snow and the temperatures are supposed to drop to the teens this week.

I guess I’ll just have to hold out for May and hope it brings some balance to the moodiest and most unpredictable of all Mother Nature’s seasons.