I struggle with spring. Moments of optimism can shift to irritation as rapidly as the wind direction in tornado alley. Twenty-degree temperature swings mean long sleeves in the morning, short sleeves in the afternoon, and then getting the air moving in the stifling early evening, confusing my immune system. I am wary of the Ides of March and feel at odds with everything that week. At this time of year it is important to take time for rest and to spend time in a relaxing setting. When you are relaxed your immune system can better handle stresses like allergies. For me relaxing is sitting outside listening to nature and what I hear most clearly is the wind in the trees.
Spring is the soft wind that rustles the branches of the citrus and pine trees in my backyard. This sound always comforts me because it is an aural reminder of how nature is interconnected. A wind that originates in Canada in a climate vastly different from here finds its way to the desert, a reminder that there are forces at work greater than I can comprehend. The particular sound of wind in pine needles is soft while citrus leaves moved by the wind have their own distinct sound, more staccato. At this time of year I relate to R.E.M.’s Half A World Away: “The storm it came up strong/It shook the trees and blew away our fear.”
Spring in the desert is a last call for cool weather. There can be winter storms in the north through early May. I know when it is snowing without looking at a weather map. There is a particular velocity and quality to the wind, and I can smell the snow in the air. I savor these moments and drink in the cool sensation on my skin before the heat arrives. I open all doors and windows to let the cool air circulate one more time before summer.
At this time of year plants that were damaged by the frost have grown back new leaves. The earth in my garden is easy to work with and I am surrounded by a kaleidoscope of scents as the sun warms up the environment around me. It is a time to be outdoors though the moodiness of the weather requires flexibility in planning. There is something magical about walking outside after an indoor event in the evening and feeling air that has cooled down, fragrant with orange blossoms. This time of year is perfect for driving at night while listening to music with the windows rolled down. I can feel when I’m driving through the older areas of the city where established trees are fed by irrigation and the cooler temperatures and humidity from the trees is palpable. As soon as I drive into the paved-over sections, this feeling evaporates. I am drawn to stringed instruments in spring such as guitars and mandolins, the music of Appalachia, Alison Krauss + Union Station, or R.E.M. I’m not sure why.
Spring is a time to start watching for nests and parent birds scouting out the best nest locations. I was surprised one morning to find several quail eggs hidden in the pot of geraniums and snapdragons. Every morning two more appeared until there were 13 altogether. I helped some of the chicks out of the tall pot, their feet so soft against my palms. Another year a hummingbird constructed a nest in the pine tree. Yet another year a nest was discovered in the lemon tree. Each nest has distinct construction techniques, some executed better than others.
Amidst unpredictability, spring’s gift is the wind that moves life into a season of renewal.
