I moved back to the United States in the middle of Fimbulwinter, arctic temperatures, whipping wind and extra snow. The winter seemed perpetual, an endless spanse of cold and grey, the melting and refreezing continuing for ever. But then, a warming, the good people of the subrubs appeared out of their houses to tend to their yards, collecting tree debris and leaves into neat brown lawn and leaf bags that stand through the inevitable last gasp of snow and freezing rain.
And then, just like that, forsythia, bright and pert blooms. The pear, apple and cherry blossoms follow suit, the buds turn into leaves and in the span of a week Spring (all caps!). All of it, stunning and sudden, about a month before Summer vacation begins. The greenery, the volume of bird song, boney kneed children louder than before.
How could I have forgotten this annual miracle?