I was born and raised in Massachusetts. Both of my parents were born and raised in Vermont. New England is in my blood and bones, part of who I am, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. While I love to visit other places and enjoy all they have to offer, my heart and soul are in New England and always will be. It is home.
As a long, cold winter draws to a close, most New Englanders yearn for spring. Winter here can seem endless. Tantalizing days of mild air and melting snow in March and April are often interrupted by sudden drops in temperature and the return of snow and ice, not just once, but several times before winter finally relinquishes its grip on us. We never know from year to year when spring will truly begin. Forget what the calendar says, New England’s weather pays no attention to the vernal equinox. March is usually capricious, more often than not raw and windy with a mix of rain and snow. April can be just a fickle. The sun might shine, the earth begin to warm, and early flowers pop up. It can just as easily visit us with snow and ice storms, sometimes one right after the other, burying our new blooms in snow drifts or encasing them in ice.
When spring really and truly arrives in all its wonderous glory it is welcomed with giddy exuberance. Once we’re reasonably sure it’s for real this time, garden centers will overflow with customers preparing for the growing season. Folks will be seen outside starting their gardens and readying lawns. A sim
ple walk or drive down any street in a New England town becomes a feast for the eyes. After months of monotonous white, the earth is suddenly filled with color – the yellow forsythia and daffodils, purple and pink hydrangeas, and tulips in a multitude of colors. Tiny leaves begin to unfurl on the trees. Apple trees burst with pink blossoms. The floral scent permeating the air is intoxicating.
Then, one day, seemingly out of nowhere, the leaves on the trees have filled out completely, roses and lilacs bloom, and the vegetables planted in gardens begin to peek out from the soil.
Not only the earth seems reborn, but the people as well. Sometimes it feels as though we semi-hibernate, or at least wish we could, during the winter. When the air turns mild and flowers and trees are blossoming many of us feel a revitalization of our own selves. The outdoors calls to us, luring us to reconnect with the natural world.
Then, one day – there’s no telling when exactly – the warmth turns to heat. It smacks us in the face when we step outside. All of a sudden summer has arrived.