Spring in the Midwest is a teasing, playful creature. Lake a coquette it appears full of beauty and promise. She flutters her fan, bats her eyes and then departs as mysteriously as she arrives. One day can be damp, cold and rainy. Even as late as April feeble snowflakes can be seen in the cool, wet morning air. The next day the sun is out, the temperature soars and cabin fevered locals emerge, their eyes blinking, attempting to accustom themselves to the light and warmth. The next day can dawn colder and wetter that the one 2 days earlier. New Easter clothes are buried beneath down coats that one can't chance putting away just yet. Then, almost overnight, the long wished for moment happens. The coquette puts down her fan and actually speaks to you.
The days noticeably lengthen. The warmth of the sun becomes a more constant companion. Early budding trees sprout diminutive new leaves. Grass transitions from brown to verdant green. Bright yellow daffodils and jonquils and the Easter egg hues of hyacinths appear in carefully cultivated patches. Planters, window boxes and balconies begin to fill with blooms purchased at the neighborhood garden center. Birds perform elaborate mating rituals and tiny bits of color peeking out from the tightly wrapped buds of tulips hint at what is still to come as spring tightens it once tenuous grasp. People fill the streets and parks. Heavy winter coats are traded in for light jackets. Later even these are eschewed as the sun climbs in the sky. It is tee shirt weather. Winter white limbs are exposed to the warmth. Once brows, furrowed from the frustration of winters tedium, smooth. Shoulders, hunched for months against the winter cold, relax.
We know it not quite over. There will still be cool nights, perhaps another drenching spring rain. However, at this time, in this place, we are gifted with this sunlit moment to treasure and enjoy.