Spring with historical fiction author jessica james
A lone daffodil blooms among the rocks.

I have always thought that autumn was my favorite season, but this year, I’ve changed my mind. After a winter that seemed like it would never end, I am seeing Spring as I have never seen it before.

After being cooped up all winter, the weather has finally warmed up enough to get outside and start cleaning up the effects of Old Man Winter. This means picking up sticks in the yard, burning downed limbs and brush, raking out garden beds, turning over the soil in the garden, and numerous other chores.

Usually I don’t look forward to tackling them, but this year is different. It seems like forever since I’ve felt the warm sun on my back or smelled the scent of fresh-cut grass. And there is nothing like finding tiny shoots of green hiding under a pile of dead leaves to help you appreciate the miracle of nature.

Daffodils along the road near Gettysburg.

According to my journal, we are usually eating asparagus out of the garden by now. This year, we’re still waiting for the slightest sprig of green to show us signs of life.

I have no doubt the asparagus will come–just like the hyacinths that are just starting to break through the ground with their vibrant colors and fragrant scents.

In fact, the landscape seems to be turning greener by the minute. Every time I look out, the patches of brown and gray have receded a little further into the woods, like giant shadows in the late afternoon sun.

Just like the ebb and flow of the tide at the ocean, Spring has its own cycle and rhythm, arriving when she’s ready and departing when she must. This year, I hope she sticks around a little. I’ve never enjoyed a Spring so much!

Note: I checked the asparagus before starting this blog yesterday and there was nothing there. This afternoon, it’s up four inches! Mother Nature’s Magic Trick.


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