There's a lot more I could say about moving--we'll get to it all later. But for now, the topic of this post: SPRING! I know what those of you reading this in Texas and Georgia are thinking: hasn't spring already been here for a good two months now? Isn't it about time for fall soon? (Oh, the South. I love you dearly, but I don't miss your 95 degree temperatures in the month of April and the way going for runs at 6 AM in the morning is made nearly impossible due to the unbearable heat and humidity you've already acquired by that time. I just don't).
Spring may be old news for you all, but it has literally just exploded in Pittsburgh. March is the month that is supposed to come in like a lion and out like a lamb, but the North is a little behind. It snowed (that's right, SNOWED) on the first day of April. I had my doubts about whether the spring was ever going to come: the trees stayed bare for waaaay longer than I thought was possible, and pretty much all of April was bathed in drizzle. Cold drizzle; the weather barely peeped its head over the forties the entire month.
But spring always takes me by surprise: after months and months of looking at bare trees, there is suddenly color dripping everywhere. Why, even when you've been waiting for it for so long, does it always seem like everything bursts into bloom over night? That's how it's felt up here. It didn't really happen until last week, but all of a sudden: POOF! Magic! Wildflowers are growing all over the place. There are Japanese tulip trees up and down our street which leave a purple carpet over the sidewalk. There are about seven shades of green I see as I look out of my window now. The days are long--longer than spring days in Texas and in Georgia. (This has felt true, but it actually is: I checked on weather.com, which never lies) There is, finally, plenty of time to get out and ride my bike through Frick park, explore new trails, look at beautiful houses I've never seen before, and discover what new life is emerging in the neighborhood. Put simply, it's wonderful.
I feel a bit like I'm five years old. It's how I felt in the fall here: amazed at the beauty I got to experience every day, thirsty to be outside every second and drinking in all of it. Before Spring officially came for good, there was a transition out of winter that honestly felt like it would never end. I suppose everyone always feels that way at the end of winter, but me being the Southern girl that I am, I couldn't understand why it wasn't 70 in mid-March. I just don't do so well with transitions, and everything about our lives for the last couple of months has pretty much been a transition: renovating and moving into a new house, becoming settled there, adjusting to new rhythms in the new space--all against a perpetually bleak backdrop of rain, bare limbs, gray skies, and cold weather. It seemed interminable.
But what's the old saying? It's always darkest right before the sun comes out. . . . or right before they switch the lights on. . . . or something like that. I'm always amazed at how quickly new life springs up: moreover, how quickly we adjust to it, forget the time of waiting, and feel like the beauty we're surrounded with has always been here. Our collective quick memory loss: it's one of the great blessings of life and a big part of why spring is so great.
Bliss. Somewhere in Frick Park. Not sure where this place is, but I will find it one day:
find it I will. Secret, serene place of my dreams:
Bikey Blue and I are coming.
Hope you and spring are getting along famously.