A North Country Spring

Bees buzzing ferociously. Birds chirping, alighting from tree to tree. Buds popping up out of nowhere. Mosquitoes and black flies torment us later. We’re safe.

I forgot how early spring surprised us in Maine. I left for Tucson in 2002, never to return to winter (ha ha). I forgot how much I loved lilacs, both lavender and white versions, their branches nearly clinging to the side of my Seawall Road garage. Waking me from winter darkness.

In 2017, before putting my Maine house on the market, I ferociously cut back a giant forsythia bush for a better view of the harbor. The last summer in my home. Lilacs had their day before my arrival from Tucson. I had forgotten about their quick coming and going.

This week, purple life arrived in the north country of Minneapolis. I want lilacs near me wherever I go — in my car, by my laptop, next to the bed.

They intoxicate me. In a good way.

I had forgotten that ice-covered sidewalks were the norm just a few weeks ago.

Lilacs took over as I walked to Lake of the Isles today.

When I decided to move from Tucson to Minneapolis last July I wanted to participate more in my grandkids’ lives. Winter couldn’t be that bad. I deluded myself.

But how on Earth did I ever forget lilacs? What else have I forgotten over the past twenty years?

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1 Response to A North Country Spring

  1. Sheila Lepley says:

    Trying hard to remember what I’ve forgotten especially when it comes to Nature. The first thing, I guess, is the feel of sand under my feet as I carefully wet my toes in the ocean….and then the feel of snow underfoot, the scrunch of it as it packs down, the smell of burrning autumn leaves and the first forsythia and daffodils……on and on it goes. Lucky me to have experienced any of it.

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