Is this spring?

The thermostat setting has been moved from Heat to Off, and the backdoor is wide open. Only the screen is closed to prevent the inflow of bugs, whom come to think of it are likely not to appear above surface yet. It's been a tricky winter to say the least, and I imagine the bugs are still waiting for a cue that there will arrive a blossom.

So what of my thoughts. As custom, I go for my first sit down on my parents' deck to listen to nature's call. With eyes closed I hear all of Vivaldi's Spring and other stereotypes of the season: A child in the distance, far west down my street, giggles with glee at a newfound outside adventure. A gull makes a declaration of found food. From the open back door of another suburban house who neighbours our backyard from another street, a father helps his son get dressed and speaks to him with that common parental voice inclination. All of this takes only a few seconds to recognize as the beginning of nature's dialogue with me, whereas in years past it would take nearly an hour to hear her voice. In part I owe this to having attended an info session and presentation of Vivaldi on Friday.

So I asked her politely and merely out of curiosity, not anguish or exasperation, if this is spring. It smells and certainly now sounds like spring. I'm standing now, and able to feel a breeze that does not chase me inside as it did in December, and I feel pain that doesn't cripple me as it did in late November. Everything seems to be changing for the better and yet nothing has. There is still much to be cautious and weary of. Tomorrow does not promise the absence of sleet. Tomorrow only promises what my favourite fortune cookie did many yesterdays ago: Good things come to those who wait, great things come to those who hustle. There is much work to be done between now and April, which is why I appreciate that on this day she has only given me a glimmer of what is to come. If Spring arrives this year, I promise not to kill it with rain.