By Loretta Wrobel
It happens every spring. Sometime in March I am outside, and “bam,” the sense that spring is happening overtakes and overwhelms me. I am instantly washed over with a flood of excitement and anticipation. Usually, the sky has some welcoming blue and the sun is out or flickering between clouds. This year it occurred a few weeks ago, while I was outside hanging clothes. (Yes, I hang my clothes outside, as I never got into the habit of using a dryer, because I absolutely love the fresh air smell of outdoor-dried clothes!) I stop and breathe deeply, and my whole being feels the thrill of another spring slowly coming on. Often it is the sound of birds, the feel of the air, and the sense of the impending unfolding as my dear sweet mother earth stretches and begins to wake up.
In Connecticut it is a back-and-forth event. Often the following day, it appears that spring vanished and winter has returned in full force. However, I know this is just a tantalizing trick that nature plays. Spring does not approach rapidly, but with slow forward-looking steps and lots of backsteps into winter chills and snow. Not that I would want to do away with the essence of winter. Without the intensity of winter and the time for resting and rejuvenating for our plants, the magic and power of bursting forth would disappear. Plus, how could the skiers, ice skaters and snowperson builders manage without winter!
As I gaze around my yard, I begin to visualize what will appear first. Where will the first crocus rise up with its exciting vivid color? When will the snow drops display their dazzling white teardrops in my yard? I love the first glimpses of spring, as each day I can run outside to search for what has popped out overnight. As spring progresses, it becomes impossible to keep track of every sprouting green, as the plants swing into full gear and my mere brain can’t keep up with the rapid growth that mother nature orchestrates.
My focus switches to a deep appreciation for our precious earth, that she keeps us full of wonder and awe. Such a multitude of growth—green is everywhere, along with flowers, blossoms, buds and leaves that surround us with beauty and gratefulness for the continuing persistence of mother nature. My head shakes in profound honor as nature manages to keep up the grand act of resurgence. Each spring it occurs, regardless of what damage we cause by not staying mindful of the uniqueness of our fragile planet.
As the days lengthen, and the temperatures moderate, it is the perfect time for quiet corner residents to walk around peering at skunk cabbage with its exotic purplish sprouts mysteriously erupting from the marshes. This low-growing plant starts slowly and then rapidly becomes widespread. The name is indicative of the smell emitting from the leaves. However, as my eyes delight in the curious shape, I view the abundant array of waste that has accumulated along our roadways and trails during the winter months. The unsightly mess we humans create is horrifyingly disrespectful of the magnificent display that mother nature is presenting to us. Why are we continuing to throw trash, litter, and our ubiquitous nips out of our car windows, as we whiz past all this marvelous growth, oblivious to the five-star show all around us?