Behold! Spring!

Spring is finally in the air.  I can see it in the back yard—slowly transforming from snowy backdrop to oozy, swampy, dog-poop-filled backwater.  I can hear it in the air—birds chirping, and the neighbors ditching work or classes to drink on the back patio on a Friday afternoon.  I can smell it, too, from the scent of clean dirt to the dour smell of rotting compost.  The dog is starting to shed her baby coat, and the child is shedding his puffy jacket.  My shoulders are starting to relax from six months of tensing against the cold, and my feet are itching to walk my erstwhile three-times-weekly path, a loop to downtown past the bars and restaurants and bakeries and coffee shops and churches and stately old homes and my son’s school.  Soon the brown and grey will be replaced with green.  There will be lawns to mow, grasses and vines to trim, a garden plot to dig up, and seeds to plant.  The sounds of construction, road repair, Harley-Davidsons, car stereos blaring, children playing and weed whackers will fill the air.  Come quickly, Spring!  How we’ve missed you!