The End of Demeter's Mourning

March 28, 2007

Isn't it a curious thing… our memories? How easy it is to forget sensory delight or disdain… of something so commonplace as the weather? I am always startled every year by the exclamations against winter weather, as if forgetting winters previous when there WAS snow? Or bitter cold for weeks on end… as if New England had never endured a blizzard or a plummeting wind chill.

And yet, that convenient memory lapse makes the return of spring delicious every year. I take no less delight than I did at age four to see the crocuses open up to reveal their purples or to breathe in each morning that sweet, damp smell of the earth softening. The sweetness softens the challenge of my long days and rejuvenates my sense of hope for the weeks to come.

Pretty spring. How I like thee.