HERE COMES SPRINGTIME

                                               

 Spring seems to have a reputation of its own amongst the seasons of the year. Almost always it evolves around the renewal and rebirth of our earth. For way back last fall, before the earth shed its fading summer colors and the cold winds of winter came forth to put the flora and fauna to sleep—and encapsulate us all in ice and snow—the seeds for this year’s summer scene were sown. Not only in and on this earth, but also in the warm wombs of a great many animals, that they might replenish themselves and propagate their species. Mother Nature knows there is only one season for birth in the wild. It’s a season that supplies food for those young, emerging babies, and gentle rains with ample warm sunshine to nurture plants. One, that only happens in springtime and it happens best right here. Even the birds that flew thousands of miles to escape the rigors of winter come back—knowing this is where they need to nest and raise their young.

But beyond all that, something called spring fever happens in the minds of people who have long endured whatever winter had to throw at them. Then, as if on cue, this rebirth comes to fruition. Nowhere is it more prominent than here in the lakes’ country. For nature abounds here, and it is such an integral part of life in this land, and it’s no accident this place was chosen to showcase it all. No accident at all that this is where it all seems to come together like clockwork. Where streams, freshened with melting snow and ice, team with fish looking to spawn; and the sky above is filled with birds looking for a place to nest. Musty burrows and dens are abandoned and creatures that lay forgotten and napping for months now, stretch their legs and show off their tiny replicas that were born in the springtime.

I remember being in school, in the springtime, and how hard it was to keep my mind on my studies. How I would go to the pencil sharpener by the classroom window so I could smell the soft breezes that came in the open windows; how the air outside smelled like freshly turned dirt and lilac blossoms. The maple trees across the street, swelling with buds, would be wet with running sap. The playground was inviting me to a game of marbles and I could almost hear the crack of the bat on the baseball diamond. My daydreams were a brief respite from my studies and from those dreams came a desire to leave the confines of that room to escape to the fields and forest.

I’m older now, and I have cashed so many spring coupons from the book of life. The woods are right outside my back door, and I go there quite often. No more daydreaming at the pencil sharpener. No more trying to reinvent the wheel or feel the pulse of government. Nothing on this earth compares with the beauty, the peace and serenity that is there just for the taking. For Molly, my faithful companion, and me, it’s always been there for us come springtime. New sights for me, new smells for her, and a new season for all of us as we walk the trails in Mother Nature’s own back yard.