The Siren Sound of Spring

Today is Andy’s birthday, so it’s appropriate that today’s word is sound for my musician. After all, I’m rocking out listening to the sound system that we bought for him. Thanks, Hillsong United and Andy! Y’all are making my day better without even knowing it. Andy’s birthday triggers my desire for spring to arrive every year. Our next big date is in April for Morgan’s birthday.

Smells evoke more memories than any other trigger for me, but music and certain sounds come in a close second. The smell of cut grass makes me sneeze, but it always makes me picture my dad on his riding lawn mower cutting grass on a hot summer afternoon. The sound of crickets chirping reminds me of hot summer nights with unbearable humidity and no air conditioning and the innocent belief that all of life works out because your parents have made sure everything does up until that point, so pure summer time magic.

Winter is driving me crazy this year. It has been so unexpectedly warm and spring-like during the week for the past few weeks. I keep bracing myself mentally for winter to come roaring back in, and it has been trying on the weekends, like we only have partial custody of winter. February through April is our heavy snow time, and we’re only half way through the first month of that block. The mountains have been slammed with record snowfall, but we keep avoiding the snow down here near Denver somehow. It’ll be 70 again this Thursday. I’m starting to worry that my roses will start growing and then get killed by the snow. I lost one bush last year that way. I have the urge to get out into the backyard and start getting everything ready for spring. It feels like time to grow!! Watching a bush come back stronger and more beautiful than the previous year is an awesome thing to behold.

I have to keep talking myself back down into winter time. Winter is silence and storing up energy to grow and waiting, which we all know that I’m not good at. This weird reprieve will not last. I’m not in the south anymore, and spring will not really arrive on the scene in Colorado in March. I need to be in the backyard mounding up more dirt around the base of the roses.

Yesterday though has me mentally screaming with impatience for spring. Why? Easy. I heard birds singing while we were walking the dogs last night. Not Canadian Geese passing through to warmer parts. Not raucous crows staring creepily down at you from the power lines at a red light either. Real birds just chirping away like we’re not going to get another foot of snow in the next few months.

So come on back, Winter. Throw some snow our way so that I can snap back to the reality of shoveling, or bow out to Spring. I’m ready for buds on trees, flowers peeking their heads through the dirt and ready to watch my roses bloom. I want to walk outside and listen to the orchestra of spring. Hear the distant purr of the neighbor’s lawn mowers, the shrieks of laughing children and the buzzing of the honey bees flittering around our towering sunflowers. Feel the vibrations of life in the clinking of horseshoes, a dogs bark and the roar from Bandimere Speedway.

Tease away, Winter. I’ll just get the ground ready and mound up the dirt around my roses and wait. Winter is the sound of silence and getting strong enough to grow, so we’ll enjoy Andy’s birthday today and wait to see which way winter zags. If I only stop long enough to listen, I’ll know. This is your time, Winter. Make the most of it. I’m going to enjoy this warm break and hang tight to the memory when I’m back outside shoveling snow, patiently waiting for spring.



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