Spring has sprung!

Our beautiful weather had me thinking about this piece I wrote a few years ago for my local newspaper. The start of spring ALWAYS makes me feel this way. I’m sharing because everything here still applies – except the parts about gathering as a group … and Florida. Sorry Florida – you’ve really let me down lately.
Apologies to my beloved family in Miami.

Off to the driveway with my honey – enjoy the sunshine!

I’ve spent a lifetime envying people who live in tropical climates. Perpetual sunshine and warmth must make every day seem like a holiday. Add in the year-round sandals, sundresses and beach time, and I’m ready to pack up for Florida.

Can you imagine life without heavy, uncomfortable coats? Static hair from a silly winter hat? A January without slushy, salted snow in your doorway, or ice to chip off the windshield? The idea that I would never again plan my wardrobe around snow-related footwear, or look at dry winter skin, really does seem so much more civilized.

But then it happens. The first perfect spring day, and I’m instantly reminded why having four seasons is such a blessing. As the trees, grass and plants get their fresh start, I reflect on my own new beginnings. To me, that first bit of warm air is more of a reboot than New Year’s Day. If those trees can shed their leaves and start over…why can’t I?

I never feel more energized for a new workout strategy (yes, I know… I didn’t have one in the first place), or an excuse to reinvent my daily meal plans, then on the first day of spring. As the earth starts to show its health, I’m motivated to do the same.

Will I plant a garden? Will I walk more? Will I get my hair wet when I jump in the pool (probably not—let’s not get crazy here)?

Everything about this time of year really seems magical.

Last weekend, we had our first official blast of spring. Two glorious days of clear skies and mild temperatures. Instead of cleaning patio furniture and trimming shrubs like my industrious neighbours, hubby and I dragged our lawn chairs to the curb and enjoyed two solid days of spring spectating. Yes, we’re those people.

We live on a crescent. Or as we call it, a “cult de sac’.” There’s at least a dozen kids out there at any given time. Plenty to watch. Last weekend’s mild weather ignited a kids versus parents street hockey game. There were bikes and scooters. Skateboards and basketballs. Sidewalk chalk lined all the homes, and bubbles were in the air. As day turned to night, tea turned to wine and there was lots of chatter about the season ahead.

Saturday’s highlight was the appearance of the ice cream truck. Three-year-old Jack heard it from miles away and stood guard waiting for it to turn the corner. As the music got louder (is it just me who finds that music terrifying?) the kids were in a full-on scream in anticipation of their sugary, freezer-burned delights. They were in such a frenzy of excitement that I literally watched one of them jump out of their pants.

If the weekend hadn’t already been perfect enough, I watched my daughter grab her two-wheeler and ride it on her own for the first time. She’d had enough of us trying to coach her. She just set her mind to it and went on her way. I’m not exaggerating when I say the day was absolute perfection.

I can’t imagine that a single day would feel so special if you lived in year-round warmth and sunshine. In fact, I’m quite prepared to turn my envy into pity as I realize Floridians never get to truly appreciate the warmth of the sun on their skin, the sound of wildlife returning, and the amazement of children as they dust off their bikes for their first ride of the year. Do they really spend days on end talking about one weekend of beautiful weather? Likely not.

Winter is now long forgotten. Similar to childbirth, we quickly forget until the next time we have to face it. Spring has sprung!

So, bring it on, ice cream man and your creepy music. Toss me some allergy medicine and a tissue, cause I’m ready for more. This is a great, great place to live.

As you read this, I’ll be dragging my lawn chair out for round two. My garden can wait.