Spring Dreaming

Colorful_spring_garden

The wind is blowing, the icicles are dripping, icy rain is falling, I am bundled up and warm and dreaming of Spring. I could blame the groundhog – it seems his prediction is the same every year. Yes, I know, it could be worse. The midwest and northeast are being inundated with snow again and a foot of snow can fall in an hour there. Here, in Brunswick County, I don’t believe there has ever been a foot of snow. But I am spoiled. I have often bragged to relatives in the northeast saying that Spring begins here in February. And it does – usually. The redwinged blackbirds were swarming the other day – one of the signs of the coming Spring that I have come to recognize. And I saw a bluebird just yesterday. There seem to be buds on some of the early blooming plants as well. But, as this weather is proving, you cannot depend on these as harbingers of Spring. There is, however, a sure sign of Spring that we who live on these barrier islands have come to recognize:

The Awakening

Spring comes to the islands,
not in the shape of green crocus spears
thrusting their tips through frozen ground and snow,
bursting with the energy of new life,
anxious to claim the Spring.

Spring comes to the islands,
not in the shape of daffodils
uncurling their golden trumpets,
playing a fanfare of beauty to usher in the season.

Spring comes to the islands,
not in the shape of a robin,
it’s red waistcoat bursting with pride
gathering twigs to build a new home,
to feather its season of love and new life.

Spring comes to the islands,
in the color of white
shining in the sunlight;
in the shape of sails
billowing in the March wind,
carrying the boats north through the waterway
like their great white wings
carry the ibis out to sea.

Rebecca Pierre

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