Spring Secrets

It’s spring in Tennessee, and it’s supposed to be hot this week. Really hot. Warm winds bringing in the kind of weather mixing with sun causing everyone to wear the big, stupid grins of youth. The emboldened smiles that kids have after sucking down mints and spraying perfume to hide the mix of stale cigarettes and beer. This season puts on most faces the grins of the young and foolish who believe no one can smell their secret as they become caricatures of abandoned innocence.

My dirty secret is that I don’t like spring. For a nature girl, I should be into budding leaves and flowering plants. I should be eager to walk in the woods, through creeks and see life ablaze in rainbows after spring storms. I am. However, spring is also awash with past failures and a list of projects.

No matter what clothes I try on from the previous year, I still weigh the same. I thought I would have lost at least a few pounds by now. And it’s time for spring cleaning. What’s that all about? Some idiot told a tale and said it’s supposed to be cleansing and invigorating. Your spirit is refreshed as you stare down spiders and organize drawers. Like a colon detox perhaps. What’s invigorating about dust and mold and mildew? Do I really need a closet filled with perfect wicker baskets lined with matching floral prints to feel better about myself? And I don’t recall anyone I know actually beating rugs outside. That doesn’t seem too helpful for those with allergies or without arm strength.

Of course, it is time for the spring marathon. A friend, whose house is on the route, offered her place on race day so we could sit outside and watch the runners. Oh yes. Sign me up. I’ll bring my chair and a bucket of fried chicken to watch all the fit people, the ones who actually worked out over the winter, run by.

Perhaps it’s just me. I like winter’s hibernation. Call me in another month when full size leaves form a canopy overhead and the hummingbirds return to their favorite bright red feeders. Call me when I can jump in the pool at the bottom of the waterfall without getting frostbite. Or just tell me that after all, the rest of my life is supposed to start today. Remind me that hope is eternal and love comes when you least expect it. Fill my mind with age old clichés and touch my heart with the softness of butterfly wings and purple pansies. Whisper in my ear the dreams kept alive by the light of fireflies. Help me remember the smell of newly cut grass and the feel of clean, white sheets on a warm night. Let me recall the sound of the owl in the middle of the woods and the noise of a flock of geese rising above a still pond at dawn.

Hmmmm…..it’s working. I just remembered another pair of jeans I haven’t tried on. Surely they’ll fit and be great to wear on marathon day. You’ll know me by my big, stupid grin - even though it will still be spring and I’ll be eating fruit.