Spring is sprung

It is a spring afternoon in Connecticut as I connect with you, dear reader. The sky is pearled and gray, filled with cloud cover. Rain is to come; that is a certainty. The air is heavy with water. And, moments ago, there was an enormous, rumbling crack of thunder that startled me out of my reverie.

The beauty of spring makes me more of a dreamer than usual. I find myself full of thoughts, ideas, and knee-deep in beauty. It´s as if I have been living in a black-and-white film and, now, step into Technicolor movie. I feel alive and animated. I am awash in life and zingy with energy.

I love the feathery tendrils sprouting on the nascent tree limb. I am awed by the variety of greens before me. Trees, bushes, plants, leaf after leaf, the verdancy is lush, abundant, and chaotic. It hangs in vines, pushes through cracks, and rearranges the horizon.

I notice pale, thin wisps of tree branches become heavy with buds and full of promise. Seemingly overnight, they transform into arboreal bouquets of flowers, white and pink that will soon dust the ground with petals as if it were snow. If I turn away and, then, look again, trees become leafier and greener in mere minutes. Such is the magic of spring; all that rain, sunshine and release from the deep hibernation of winter unearths and unfolds a color-filled and chaotic profusion of new growth.

When I walk my neighborhood, you will frequently find me with my nose in a bloom. I search out the unfolding spirals of lilacs and inhale their tender fragrance. My less-conscious self yearns to bring clippers on these perambulations to snip a bouquet for home, but, alas, I do not.

However, there is much to go around. My local market provides me with a substitute in the form of three, fat peony blossoms in shades of pink, pinker, and white. Their heady fragrance perfumes my apartment, and I am close to a swoon.

And speaking of swoons, there are spring nights. It´s as if the heavens have showered their starlight on earth. There is a tangible shimmer in the atmosphere. The air is lighter, softer, sweeter, and scented with fecund possibilities. Enchantment abounds.

Spring is creativity run amok. The yin and yang come together and bring forth new life. Everything feels alive; all is part of a great pulsating dance. Much like birthing, the energies quicken with spring.

And, oh, how I love these energies.

The child in me swings her arms wide and twirls in wide circles; she dances in the moonlight and talks to the faeries. The adult me steps outside, with telephone in hand, to share a full moon with a long-distance friend. The adult me feels the revving up of my juices and quickening of my process. I am ready to create and revel in the new light. I am breathing it all in, and, above all, I am willing to unfold and blossom; branch out anew and flower in great, petaled bursts.

Care to join me? The energies are zingy.

Copyright 2009 by Adele Ryan McDowell.