25 February 2009

Spring

Where I come from, spring is less of a season than a two-week catastrophe. Flowers burst into bloom overnight, covering everything in sight with a thick coat of pollen. Trees open their blossoms, but they reek of something dead. Everyone is sneezing. Drivers can't see for the allergens in the air. And then, two weeks later the temperature increases thirty degrees--it's summer.

As beautiful as dogwood trees are, I have to admit that I never really appreciated spring in Atlanta. Even living in DC, where gorgeous cherry trees grace the city for a few weeks a year, I was too far removed from nature to really appreciate what was going on. But here, in England, I finally understand.

Spring is a season--a season of gradual opening and rebirth. Daffodils have been sprouting as soon as the snow melted three weeks ago. They didn't just bloom. In fact, they haven't bloomed yet. But each and every one, all over the city, holds the beautiful promise of a bright, yellow blossom.

The animals know it's coming, too. Birds have started to wake me up in the morning. Ducks chase potential mates through the river. In a few months, their babies will liter the towpath.

Here, you feel spring coming. This far north, each day is almost four full minutes longer. The sun comes up earlier each day, only strengthening the impression that life is growing.

The seasons in England are dynamic, unfolding slowly. God's creation really in a miracle.

You can see more photographs of Oxford in the spring here.

2 comments:

John Fincher said...

I love your perspective. But, I have to tell you, for me, spring is the ONLY redeeming aspect of living in Atlanta.

Yes, the pollen is terrible (Pine trees - yuck), but the Dogwoods and Azaleas are spectacular.

As to the gradual awakening in England, does it give you have a greater respect for the pagans that lived and died with the rebirth of nature? I fully understand their awe.

Peace

Lindsay said...

I think part of the problem of not being able to appreciate spring, at least at GW in DC, is the way that they rip up the ground at the first hint of warm weather and dump in fully bloomed flowers. And then when those flowers die or start to look bad they rip them out and replace them again and again until winter.

I guess I understand wanting to cater to the tourists and make sure they have a scenic experience, but it does give one a skewed perspective of the seasons as a resident.