What a magician this late spring weather is this year. I have been lured outside and much of my sadness banished with this strong dose of warmth and sunlight.
The winds are still raging as they have been all spring. Changes in our climate have brought a new experience of strong and consistent high winds that can gust at times up to 60 mph or more. And it has been a bitterly cold until this week. We had 5 nights during the last two weeks of April that covered the grass with a frosty white blanket and left primroses and bleeding hearts with limp, brown-edged leaves. Friday, May 1, was hopefully the last frost of the year.
In my closet I didn’t bother to switch out my winter wools, long sleeves, and heavy weight jeans. It was too cold to wear short sleeves or lighter capris . . . until this past Saturday. That morning found me scrambling to dig out a t-shirt and my Duluth Trading roll-up pants. I had only half-heartedly ventured outside before Saturday — briefly checking to see what was poking up in the garden, what was blooming, and picking the occasional weed before dashing back into the house to warm myself with hot coffee.
This weekend was the “switch”. It often seems that the weather gets stuck in a cold cycle in the spring and then like a flipped switch it gentles out into a soothing warmth. Plants that have been holding their green energy tightly burst from the ground and within days are budding and blooming. They surge upward, their leaves transforming ephemeral light into new leaves and blossoms.
Within me must remain a remnant of photosynthesis and a legacy from the plant world. Sunlight always works a transformation in my body. Energy that has been held tightly and unavailable through the cold and dark winter is released in me as I step into the sunlight. What in the cold of early spring seemed overwhelming and not worth an effort, suddenly beckons my interest and piques my energy. Weeding? Check. Fixing the tangled and damaged netting on the garden? Sure. Deadheading and tying up the daffodils? Can’t wait. Turning over the garden beds with a spade and hoe? I can do that this morning.
I work slowly (my aging body doesn’t move as fast as a younger me), but with energy that lasts through the whole day and into the next.
As late spring’s gentle warmth moves into summer’s sweaty heat and humidity, my energy will flag again. But until that time is here, I will marvel at the wonderful transformation created by sunlight in a body that remembers the legacy of green plants.
Pilgrimages and Paths 