It’s here y’all. It’s finally here. After months of grey, bleak skies and dead trees, it is finally, freaking here.
This is what I’ve been waiting for. I’ve stayed sane for the past 6 1/2 months because I knew this was going to be here soon. The green of spring in Massachusetts is indescribable. It’s shockingly green. It’s so bright it blinds you. It’s beautiful. And damn y’all, it comes on fast.
It’s been creeping up on me. Spring has been slowly coming in little fits and spurts for the last couple of months. First the daffodils and forsythia bloomed, a sure herald of spring, but they bloomed amid dead grass and bare limbs. The, slowly, the grass started to green-out, yet still amid the gray, dead limbs. Finally, last month, all the flowering trees began to flower in a profusion of color and ruffly-ness. Lovely, yes, but they were little beacons of light that glowed against the still- infuriatingly!- damn gray trees.
And then, one day, it was here. And I mean like BAM! On my train ride into Boston in the morning, I gazed wistfully out the window and noticed- could it be?- the little yellow glimmer of yellow leaves sprouting out of all the trees. Then, on the ride home, it was there. That saturated, rich green. It’s the most beautiful sight in the world and it was all I could do not to run down the length of the train and kiss my fellow passengers on the mouth screaming “BLESS YOU THOR FOR PROVIDING US WITH THE HERALD OF SPRING. I WILL SACRIFICE A MAN-GOAT IN YOUR HONOR LEST YOU SMITE US FOR IGNORING YOUR BOUNTY!” I wanted to dance with satyrs in a thicket of myrtle trees whilst drinking wine out of bladders. I settled for squee-ing to myself and then leaping into the car with Pete when he picked me up and screaming into his face THE GREEN IS HERE! THE GREEEEEEEEN! (His response: “……ummm…Hi honey. Did you eat that old stew beef, or something?)
Needless to say, I’m terribly pleased that I can finally put this godforsaken winter behind me and enjoy the pristine glory that is a New England spring. It truly is spectacular. I celebrated spring by going out and buying 40 plants for my flower garden then spending six hours on Sunday hunched over my little plot trying to avoid fainting every time I saw an earthworm (Shut up! They look like snakes and the make me woozy!) (Pete’s response to this odd quirk is: “What the hell kind of country-girl are you? You’re afraid of an earthworm? My response is: “Oh god! There’s another one! I think I’m going to puke!”). Brilliantly, I did this in a tank-top. Without any sunscreen. From 9:30-3 or so. Well, nothing say “yay spring!” like a blistering sunburn. They say that wearing green will make the red look less, I don’t know, freakishly startling. So at least the trees around me are counteracting the molten-lava glow emanating off my back. Sadly, they do nothing for the searing pain.