Spring comes early in this neck of the woods of Texas. It's a popular cliche, yet powerful enough to be understood anywhere in the United States...to the folks who are belligerently (still) shoveling out of a mad northern winter to the rest of us who are dripping in rainforest-esque humidity.
As a Yank recently relocated to 'Camp Swampy', Texas after narrowly escaping a nasty Vermont winter worthy of the next Apocalypse, I quite enjoy Spring.
In New England, Spring comes in fits and flirts with us like our exasperating lover. It is something that enters whenever the first robin is spotted playing in a frozen mud puddle. Spring is a sign of relief from the months of bone-chilling cold, depressing darkness and mega snow drifts that hide the family SUV, mailbox and wicker patio furniture last seen in September before old man winter migrated from Canada.
I look forward to the first signs of Spring...the sweet, pungent scent of lilac blossoms, the mad chattering of love-lust birds and crickets serenading the night air with their nocturnal concerts add to the wonder of Mother Earth's rejuvenation process.
I worry that I may not be able to experience these marvels of spring in this pocket of Southeast Texas, the land of eternal summer. But, my concern is momentarily eased one morning, when I take a stroll along Monument Hill Park.
Here, Spring creates vibrant orange, pink and purple painted fields, billowy, white plumage peeking from whimsical palm-like succulents...the peppery scent of mesquite and the annual northern migration of fowl and Winter Texans. In proud announcement of Spring, thousands of red-winged blackbirds fill the trees with their colorful plumes and deafening cackles like tiny town criers.
In the intense 1000% humidity that promises summer in 'Camp Swampy', I can reminisce about the joys of my Springs in New England, Texas-style...without the irritating hazards of a freak May snowstorm!