I pushed. My daughter sang as she soared skyward in the swing. I picked up the second verse, “It’s a beautiful day for swinging…”
“Maahm… you’re so silly.
Saturday and Sunday were indeed beautiful days, and my daughter and I spent as much time as possible outside enjoying them.
Phenology is the science that describes the periodic plant and animal life cycle events that are influenced by seasonal changes. The biologists who study phenology keep careful records of bird migrations, like the return of the Sandhill Cranes, robins and red-winged black birds. They are all back now. In the mornings, I awake to the chatter of the robins and finches and the panicked cries of the killdeers. Soon, when we have our first couple of nights with temperatures above 50°F, we will begin hearing the calls of frogs—in the early spring it’s the peepers and chorus frogs who will be the first to provide our evening serenade. Lizards will emerge from their winter hiding places. Skunk cabbage will bloom in the swamps. The trees along the roadside and in our yard already have new color on the end of their branches and swelling buds on their tips.
Field biologists and ecologists can tell you will great accuracy when these things will happen, and if you ever have the good fortune to go on a walk through the woods or the prairie with one of these scientists you will see all sorts of things that you have never noticed before. It’s amazing all the wonders you can see by looking.
But the one sure sign of spring that no scientist that I know of has ever described is me getting spring fever. Yes, spring weather does that to me. I get a case of spring fever that is unbelievable. I start singing, running and twirling. I spend time lying in the sun-warmed grass with my daughter, flying the Tigger and Pooh kite on sunny days, cheeks caressed by warm south breezes.
I can write but a single a paragraph on any technical document before I spring up from my desk at work and take a walk outside. I sit outside in the evenings to listen to the birdsong. I daydream. I spend countless minutes looking at the robins and finches that are nesting in the down spouts around the building at work. My pedometer soars beyond 10,000 steps with no effort on my part.
These days at the transition of the seasons are precious, not to be wasted on stuffy adults.
They are beautiful days. Beautiful days for singing, swinging, twirling, rolling in the grass and being young at heart.
Enjoy them with a vim and vigor that will fully embarrass every five-year-old you know.
© 2012 Michele Arduengo. All rights reserved.