Yes, this year's Spring is shaping up to be quite a spectacle, quite a spectacle indeed. It was just confirmed yesterday that Mother Nature will be returning as host, thus marking her 4.54 billionth consecutive turn as Master of Ceremonies.
What is it about season changes that we long for? Sure the new growth and fresh start of Spring excites us after a long winter. But so too do the crack of the baseball bat and hot summer nights, or the crispness of fall mornings.
One of my favorite books about summer and its rites and rituals is Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury. I highly recommend it, no matter if you are, like me, ending summer or if you are in a part of the world where summer and its joys are looming.
Creating an accurate and practical calendar is an astonishingly complicated challenge, which has plagued our calendrical tendencies since people first attempted to create some logical and consistent order for themselves from a universe that can be so chaotic and confusing in its complexity.
The fall, when the long hard labor of the growing and reaping seasons is finally finished and when the storehouses are as full as they will ever be, is an especially appropriate time to begin the year.
Summer brings up a lot of idealized pictures: family vacations, backyard barbeques with neighbors, street festivals with friends. In that gap between our hopes and our reality often comes the surprising feeling of loneliness.
As my neighbors grumble about the leaves covering their lawn, my boys wait wide-eyed, mighty rakes in their hands. The time is here; our delicate Japanese maple has finally shed enough of her red robe for a ginormous leaf pile.