Do I really want to Spring?

The sun is streaming in, and now that the Spring equinox has finally arrived, for me Spring has officially started. As usually happens on September 1st when we recognise the start of Spring, the sun came out, the birds were chirping, the daffies were blooming all over the place, lambs and calves were running around the paddocks and an extra spring in the step could be noticed as people ventured outdoors to admire the beginnings of new life. 

After two days of clear blue skies and sunshine that actually had a bit of warmth in it, Tassie then proceeded in typical fashion and decided our little foretaste would remain just that. We know down here not to get too cocky, for the brief respite from what has been a wet and soggy winter didn’t last long. Grey skies, rain and even snow have returned on several occasions over the past three weeks, as have our Spring winds, which are blowing a gale today and wrapping my washing very tightly around the line. 

For those old enough to remember, Demis Roussos sang his way through the early 70s with My Friend the Wind, but I can tell you the Spring winds are something we definitely do not welcome around here. Between the local motel having a whole section of its roof peeled off like a sardine tin some years ago, to the never-ending statistics of trees falling victim on the golf course, the wind can wreak havoc in our little State at this time of year. 

My neighbour found three foreign socks in her yard after one such gale recently which had us both awake at 4am as someone’s wheelie bin maneuvered itself down the street under jet propulsion, the contents of which ended up in several front yards. I’ve had whole shrubs, and I’m not talking little things, but 2 metre-high shrubs literally ripped out of the ground and sent skittering across the yard or down the road like tumbleweed. Had a tree once which suffered a similar fate take out the side fence and block the adjacent laneway. Someone once found a pair of guy’s satin shortie pyjama pants on the golf course, but I think the owner was too embarrassed to claim them. 

The wind can get pretty crazy, and I reckon it even has a way of getting under your skin. When I was teaching my 5-year old Preps a whole lifetime ago, we teachers dreaded windy days even more than wet days, for it was like a tornado came back into the classroom after the kids had been outside for any length of time. Their concentration went out the window, the noise level increased by several decibels, and their behaviour matched their tangled, windblown hair.

Even hanging out the washing in a roaring forties gale can make me a bit skittish, and we have to warn the elderly folk around here not to go walking when there’s a real blow on, for some have literally been blown over in the past and suffered injuries as a consequence. On more than one occasion I’ve jogged home through necessity, for it’s been either that or land flat on my face as the tailwind has propelled me forward at a rate of knots well above walking pace.

We often find parallels with the seasons in our path through life. Summer is full of life and energy, autumn brings a slowing down, a letting go, but when we’re doing it tough, it can seem like we’re immersed in a never-ending winter experience where all is grey and gloomy, forbidding and foreboding. Coming through to the other side where conditions improve and situations begin to resolve themselves can feel very much like heading into Spring. Hope returns, and with it the prospect of new opportunities. 

Author Barbara Kingsolver put it well when she said “This is the season of exquisite redemption, a slam-bang return to joy after a season of cold second thoughts.”

Even with the ravages of climate change becoming more and more evident on our precious planet, the Earth remains on its axis, rotating and revolving, taking us along for the ride through space. Nothing is static, the only constant is change, but we can still rely on our home planet to follow the rhythmic cycle that brings the seasonal changes. Despite how we might have felt through the long winter months, we are not trapped there.

“No Winter lasts forever, no Spring skips its turn” wrote Hal Borland in Sundial of the Seasons, compiled from his daily column of editorials on nature for the New York Times. It’s a fact we all know, but it’s also heartening to be reminded.

 We live very much in the present moment, and right now Spring is a time of transition. The period of dormancy is over. Warmth is returning, new life is in evidence everywhere, so what better time than this to shrug off our wintertime lethargy and prepare to embrace whatever possibilities come our way.