Spring is sprung

Spring is sprung.
The grass is riz.
I wonder where
The flowers is?

And so, with that bit of doggerel, I announce that spring is arrived on more than just the calendar. For one thing, Angelborough is filthy. 

When I lived in NYC, spring wasn’t heralded by filth, but up here in the frozen north, every snowstorm brings with it a hefty coating of sand, gravel and yuck. We lay that on the roads in order to create a driving surface known as “slurry” and there it stays until it gets washed away.

That washing away happens one of two ways: first, the city sends out street sweepers, which perform the very necessary function of pushing the dirt all around while making a lot of noise. The streets afterward are just as dirty, but in different places.

The second cleaning happens when it rains. First you have a little drizzle, and what that does is it creates a scent you only encounter once a year, in pre-spring. Again it’s not enough to wash away the dirt, but each droplet hits the ground and sends up microscopic particles of dust and dirt. You’re breathing this stuff, and you know it’s going to be spring because otherwise all this stuff would still be stuck to the snow, and not to the ground that happened to be under the snow when it melted.

After that comes the first Big Rain, and that clears off the grass, the road surface, your driveway, your roof — and then spring has sprung.

Coming up soon: dirty feet, the first sign of summer. Because, as I’ve mentioned before, my children are allergic to socks. As soon as possible, they strip off their shoes and socks and set their shameful exposed piggies right into the grass.

What are your personal favorite signs of spring? First sign of summer? Answer in the comment box or at your blog (and I’ll link to it.)

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About philangelus

Mom, freelance writer, novelist, angelphile, Catholic, know-it-all.
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7 Responses to Spring is sprung

  1. Capt Cardor says:

    We know winter is over when the Tundra Swans leave the Chesapeake on their annual trek to Alaska. About two weeks later the Ospreys arrive to take up their perches along the Bay. From the mad oboe sounds of the Swans(boop-boop, boop-boop) to the Kee-Kee-kee of the Ospreys… spring is here.

  2. illya says:

    The green shoots of daffodils tell me that sping is here.

  3. Patient Husband says:

    Sunlight. I love the fact that I leave the house while it’s light and come home while it’s still light. Given that I can leave later now, it’s happening sooner in the year than it used to in the other house.

  4. peteonthewater says:

    In our very temperate climate down here at the bottom of the Pacific spring creeps up on you, it keeps pretending it’s coming, and then finally the spring deluges arrive and we know we’re there.
    Spring is also dislocated from it’s spiritual dimension down here – Easter happens in autumn (err sorry – Fall.) So it kind of becomes about the transcended death – cos the promise of new life evident in Spring is a looong way off.
    When the sprogs were small it meant they could escape outside at last without boots or coats – that was a GOOD thing for the Rev’s missus and for me.
    Pete

  5. Jason Block says:

    For me there are a few signs:
    –The moving forward of the clocks.
    –Baseball Season. (Go Yankees)
    –Longer Days with Sunlight.

  6. Ken Rolph says:

    Jan got a rose thorn pretty deeply into her foot, so we had to go to the doctor. While we were there he grabbed me and gave me a flu shot. He thinks it is necessary to do that because of my advancing years. Anyway, that’s how I knew it was finally autumn and winter not far around the corner.

    But at least it was the end of summer time, so I got my hour’s sleep back. Winter in Sydney can be quite cool. I suspect that in a couple of months there will be days so cold that I might even have to put on a long sleeve shirt. Maybe a cardigan. Maybe even socks, to keep my feet warm. Brrrr. Not looking forward to that.

    The reminder on bulbs was handy. I need to get our store sorted out and planted in the ground.

  7. Judy says:

    Here it is when the sandhill cranes, which winter here in the middle Rio Grande valley, start massing and getting very noisy with all the discussions and then suddenly are gone, headed north to their summer homes.

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