Signs of Spring…
Late last week, Spring blew kisses full of promise on the breeze. My family (actually, the whole neighborhood) was euphoric as more and more signs of spring emerged (like the lush green new willow leaves, and blossoming fruit trees). My brother Daniel stopped by, and Frank and I took him to Temple Square in Salt Lake…where somewhere around ten acres of gardens are in full bloom. Stunning. Frank took pictures of the temple. I took pictures of the blossoms, and people (there was a lot of wedding partying going on). And Daniel was delightful company. I’ll introduce you to him on Saturday.
And then, there was a sudden shift. Spring’s sweet breezes turned bitter. We’ve had snow twice this week. Last night, temps dropped down into the 20’s; I paid my son five dollars to cover my little fruit trees with blankets. No idea yet if it worked. Smudge pots, the traditional frost combat strategy for orchardists, are not an option…nor are Christmas lights (our modern LED lights burn efficient and cool). Years and years ago, my in-laws saved their apricot blossoms from a cold ruin by string Christmas lights in it; their neighbors thought they were protesting the Vietnam War, putting up lights in March. Yes, March. There are places in the world where apricots actually bloom in March, rather than the middle of April.
Tonight there’s another frost warning. Not to mention more global sorrows that have cropped up recently.
And yet. I’m remembering…we’ve been here before. We’ve seen Spring languish, and seem to recede. We’ve lamented killing frosts. But Spring always comes back, and eventually, it stays long enough to usher in summer (even if it snows in June, which locals tell me happened the year before we moved here). Last year, the frost bit peach blossoms hard on the mountain benches and in the valley. Some folks said sadly that there would be no local peaches. But there were, after all. I brought boxes home from the fruit stand in late August…the best peaches I’d ever had (sorry Dad…yours are lovely, but these were unbelievably perfect).
So Spring. Just so you know…
I’m not done believing in you. I’ve felt sad and cold these last few days, but I’m still harboring hope. Watch; now I’m embracing it. And sending kisses your way, counting on them being reciprocated. You are most welcome to come and stay; I can think of nothing better than being in your company.
