Perhaps the most powerful aspect of changing seasons from winter to spring is the burst of color. Sure, warmer temperatures are nice. Of course, singing birds add a song to the air. Yes, growing plants are better than bare branches. But with spring’s arrival, there is a celebration of color, a parade of pigment, a hoopla of hues.
Reds, blues and greens burst forth where just weeks before there was nothing more than dark browns and grays.
Violet, magenta and yellow expand and blossom with each passing day, replacing a blah background of winter’s sad colorless world.
Of course, with the color comes the work. However, mowing a few times a week is a small price to pay to have a carpet of green grass return from the dead. Trimming back expanding branches is no burden when I can spend the evenings lounging in the shade of the Maple’s verdant canopy. Pulling some weeds in the garden beds is a price well-paid for the beauty of daffodils and tulips that spot the landscape with color.
The rainbow of color never ends in this season I love. And I am so very grateful.