Observations on a Sunny First Day of Spring

First full day of Spring and it is a sunny day with blue skies spreading over us like a lovely blanket of warm fuzzy feelings urging us outside to watch robins flutter and crocuses trumpet that, finally, spring has sprung!

The people listen and the dog walkers are out in force. Two elderly sisters walk their tiny Chihuahuas with their bright blue harnesses. A child is being taken for a run by his golden lab. A young man on his bicycle pedals by with a sedate collie, fur ruffling in the breeze, trotting along side.

Suddenly the leaves that have coated the yards on my street must be raked and almost every yard sports a male with rake in hand. Long, puffed lines of leaves bracket the street.

I can't possibly. . .oh yes! I really do smell that whisper of summer to come: Someone has unearthed their grill and the unmistakable scent of charcoal wafts through the air.

Throngs of kids, sweatshirts tied by sleeves flapping around their waists, blossom down the road on bikes of every possible color, their voices shrieks of laughter; raucous counterpoint to the bird song symphony of robins, finches and mourning doves.

The ninety-something gentleman at the foot of the road walks hand in hand with his equally senior wife of sixty some years. There is a spring in their step as they head towards the walking trail nearby. A scarlet cardinal stands out against the rapidly greening of bush and grass.

I feel the urge to wash windows and change furniture around. Opting for a fresh cup of coffee and a break from my newsletter, I head outside to enjoy the day and the fresh opportunity to see more of what today offers. And on the way, I'll bring a load of freshly washed sheets to hang on the line.

Four sheets blowing in the wind. Mismatched pillowcases flap at the ends of the line. Yup. NOW, it is Spring. Something about things drying on a line in the sun: That sunny feeling breezing through fabric. We shall sleep extra well tonight.

The willow trees down by the pond are beginning to get that faint tinge of lemon-lime-y green. The trees off on the hill will soon sport the leaves just now beginning to think about budding out. Soon that green tinge will coat the branches: that green glow before the burst of leaf.

A black squirrel, perched on the windowsill outside the computer room window, is eying the bird feeder. Why can't he do that when I'm inside and only a foot away?

Someone, the next street over, starts a lawnmower. Much pleasanter sound than a snow blower, I decide. A car arrives and grandchildren spill out in a flurry of hugs before heading for the back yard. In a flash, they swarm up into the branches of the maple tree. A broken branch drips. Taste it, it is sweet. Stopping the grands from breaking more branches, they are sidetracked by collecting the sap dripping freely from the branch in an empty coffee can. A satisfying plop-plop of sap collects several inches within an hour. Boiled on the stove, it yields just enough syrup to drizzle over silver dollar sized pancakes.

No, it isn't warm enough to run around barefoot. No, you can't play with the hose. First days of Spring mean Summer isn't too far behind. *looks at the weather forecast for the week ahead* Oh no . . . snow on Thursday. Knew it was too good to be true!