Spring is Sprung

Ruminations - Spring is sprung 3/12/09

Step outside and take a deep breath. Smell it? Spring is trying to break the back of winter. I opened the bedroom window a crack last night, and the smell of rain and wet earth filled the house. I haven't been outside much recently, no more than to walk from the car to the store and back, but I ventured out today. The crocus's are poking their heads up and the willow trees are budding. I can see the buds on the tree outside my window starting to swell, as the raindrops glisten on the fine lace branches like so many diamonds. The wonder of early spring is so easy to miss. Our brains are still sluggish from the cold and dreariness of winter, we're still focused on the chill of the wind, and the knowledge that winter hasn't lost its grip altogether. There will certainly be more snows, and more cold north winds; but the geese are coming back, flocks of seagulls gather in the field behind my house, and the cardinals are calling forth their territory, all sure signs that spring isn't far away.
The lake is an endless source of fascination for me. Being gone for so long, it's been decades since I've seen it frozen over. The ice formations are constantly on the move, forming and reforming as the winds blow from different directions. Some days Lake Erie appears frozen solid, the next will reveal a wide swath of open water, only to be swallowed up again by ice. But the open water is ocurring more often and in larger areas. It won't be long before the ice breaks up, finds its way to Niagara Falls, and the north winds, when they blow, won't be further chilled by the frozen water. Spring WILL come. It's not far off. I can smell it.
We're not long from Fat Tuesday and the first Friday of Lent, and already St. Patrick's Day is next Tuesday, unless the Catholic Church decides to change the date again. I think we're safe this year though. I haven't a drop of Irish blood in me (that I know of), but I'll don something green, pay homage to the leprechaun's and fairies, and pray for warm weather. I've seen St. Paddy's days of the past as warm as 78 degrees, and I've watched parades in St. Paul, Minnesota, which is predominately Irish and German, in freezing sleet and snow. The Irish are an affable lot as a whole, friendly but stubborn, feisty yet poetic by nature. I'm sure these are stereo-types, but I've become acquainted with a few Irishmen and women and they seem to fit this pattern. I don't know what the Irish makeup of this area is, but to the Irish everywhere - May the Irish hills caress you. May her lakes and rivers bless you. May the luck of the Irish enfold you. May the blessings of Saint Patrick behold you.