The tulips are about to open themselves up to the world again, just as the daffodils are singing their closing song.
A layer of fleece is no longer necessary for the morning dog walks.
The smell of spring is so overwhelming it doesn’t require me to sniff, or to get up close.
Our whole neighborhood is about to become an azalea parade.
Spring is a season of ease.
There’s beauty everywhere; no hunting necessary. Would it be spring without a tree blossom smacking me in the face as it falls? Even as I return to laboring outside weeding and mulching, I delight in it. I’ve wintered and am well rested. By July I will hate it, but in April, yard work is a delight.
Spring is full of such ease I jaunt about in the yard just to make myself feel like I have some role to play in the beauty. Nothing I do will cause the tulips to bloom or the birds sing. But they will. After a season of working so hard to find beauty and delight, spring offers me ease. I accept.