I spend quite a bit of time in my car, like most busy Moms of overscheduled kids…practice, appointments, work, school events…even an occasional trip to the emergency room or the police station (those, of course, are stories for another day!). And because I drive around so much, I become almost immune to my surroundings–no longer noticing the same-old same-old, day-after-day array of businesses and homes that I pass along the way. It’s sad, but true; always trying to get to the next place I have to be, I will sometimes forget to notice where I am. But sometimes something will catch my eye and even cause me to catch my breath…
It happened this week, on my way to deliver a son from the orthodontist to the school in time to deliver myself to work. I was driving the same old route that I drive day after day and something looked different…brighter…happier. Finally! The forsythia was in full bloom! Finally!
Growing up, my Mom and Grandmas would always point out the crocuses as the “first flowers of spring.” And true as that may be–and lovely as they are–they are small and low to the ground. You almost have to look for them peeking up out of the dirt or snow. I’ve always felt like the forsythia were the true signal that spring had sprung. They are big and vibrant and yellow as the sun shining in the sky. When they bloom, it is brilliant. The bold color burst right out of the dark brown branches in a glorious announcement of arrival–like a boa-clad diva arriving slightly late at a cocktail party! The bushes are big and full, like life itself, and they make me smile! And they remind me that spring is really here!
We’ve suffered through a cold and dreary winter here in the Northeast, and so far we seem to be slowly moving through a cold and dreary spring. Temperatures have been below normal, gray skies are the norm, and when the cold rain falls, we convince ourselves (in an effort to not go bonkers) that it’s good for the flowers, which will eventually spring up and lift our spirits so high that we’ll forget that the Groundhog let us down with his prediction of an early spring.
I think I can forgive you now, Punxutawney Phil. I think I can make it through a few more dreary days. Because when I’m driving my routine routes now, I can finally see the golden hope of springtime. I can finally see the forsythia!