Spring is nature’s way of saying “let’s party!”
It started with a shy look around the cold corner of winter. There it was, a small glow of warming light, an extended ray of sunshine ignoring the laws of space-time, just bending itself around an icy crystal in the backyard of winter. Was it looking for something?
Touching the compressed snowflakes, crystals of frozen water, which sat there helplessly frozen on the ground, caressing them, making them melt and come back to life. Making them feel the warmth of spring they had been longing for…
In the blink of an eye, it seemed as if war broke out: The snowmen started to emerge their tiny arms holding broomsticks even longer, loosing grasp, letting them go, and finally, they joined in the all-over movement of the crystal structure that appeared to have started a Brownian party of motion. The more and more fluid mob spread out, stones lying on the former ice started falling down, the ground was to be seen again, and soon it was as wet as a lively earth should be.
Then, the first sounds came back: The trees had started to move in a partying fashion, dropping the old white clothes and instead presenting a healthy brownish, partly even greenish colour.
As soon as the first bird decided to take its seat on the regained natural benches and started chirping, the quality of the scenery was finally changed to the song of spring, the sound of life.
Was this a winter’s dream? I shook myself, opened my eyes, took a look around. No, it could not be a dream, it was real, the scenery was close, warm, even warming, the damp and moist time of freezing winter had passed. Touching the stones already warmed by the sun, I sat down in the protecting shadow of a nearby tree, grabbed in my pocket as if I knew there were a sheet of paper and a pen in there, took them out and started to write, taking in the scenery…
Finding myself absorbed in words and surrounded by colours, reality finally came back to me. The tree became a chair, the stones were transformed into tables and the pen and paper transformed into a notebook sitting in front of me. Nevertheless, the satisfaction and hope the beautiful scene left did not transform, because I knew:
It will be. On a future day, not too far away, it will simple be, and we will all be there to see it and enjoy the songs of spring the winter had made us forget. It will be.