Nowadays, this moment on the calendar passes by mostly unnoticed, but for those who strongly desire daylight and warmth a little internal sigh of relief occurs at this small token of hope. Ever so slowly and in fits and starts, the signs of spring will begin to emerge. Vivid green shoots will poke through the decaying leaves. Perhaps you’ll walk by that same flowerbed you pass every day, only this time you’ll spot a patch of paradoxical crocuses. Isn't it amazing how something so fragile in appearance can be the harbinger of spring? Tiny nubs will emerge along the skeletal branches of trees, eventually swelling into buds and then fully fledged leaves. You might notice a particular bird you don’t recall seeing since last fall. Pretty soon the melting, flittering, greening landscape of springtime will be unmistakably all around.
But there are also days when it will feel so very far away. A cold front passes through bringing with it blustery winds that steal warmth from soil and skin. That last gasp of winter snow that briefly drains the world of its color. Weary of sweaters and sock and stew we cringe and sigh, but as the axial tilt of the Earth increasingly favors its northern half, the hopeful sun will continue little by little to rise earlier and set later. I find great comfort in the constancy of that pattern in the early days of spring and then again in summer when the reverse happens, and I’m reminded to cherish the unbearably hot days a little more so that I might mentally store up some of that warmth for the winter yet to come.
