“Les hirondelles sont là!” ~ “The swallows are here!” The phonecall from my friend’s brother heralded the official beginning of spring in France: the arrival of the swallows was proof of the season – as though any further proof were needed. Buds were sprouting on the trees, cherry-, apple- and plum-trees were covered in blossoms, and hardy bulbs were blooming in every city park and private garden.
There is something magical about the transition between seasons in a temperate climate. The air is alive with possibilities as new colours transform the landscape. It is one of the things I have missed most, living in the tropics where we joke about having three seasons: “Hot, hot, and hotter!” Growing up, I always loved feeling the change in air quality and watching the transition of colours as the seasons turned. And, after a seemingly endless Canadian winter buried in snow, spring, and it’s association with crocus, skipping ropes and Easter eggs, was particularly special. Spring is both a real time and a metaphoric symbol of growth, renewal, new life, and hope.
This stay in France during March and April was the first spring I’ve experienced for many years. Although the weather was changeable (often wet with chillingly cold winds; typical spring weather, really), I relished the rich scent of the warming soil, the sharp perfume of tulips, jonquils and other bulb flowers, and the subtle colours of new grass and emerging buds. Everywhere we went, the smells, colours and sounds of spring were all around.
France in the springtime: a true sensory delight!
The year’s at the spring
And day’s at the morn;
Morning’s at seven;
The hillside’s dew-pearled;
The lark’s on the wing;
The snail’s on the thorn;
God’s in His heaven
-
All’s right with the world!
~ Robert Browning
Enjoy the season.
I forget that in Bangkok you miss the subtleties of the changing seasons, I expect you have a prevalence of flowers but rarely the contrasts of which you speak. The things we take for granted as we rush through our busy lives, enjoy the magic of (spring) or in our case Autumn, with the crisp air, the coloured leaves and the excuse to curl up with a good book on the lounge or tucked warmly into bed. Finally my favourite time of year, a reason to dress well, not be sticky and to enjoy a good meal with friends… all without the beads of perspiration associated with our summer. Oh and listen to Lance whine as he mourns the loss of summer, and reminds me how much he hates winter…hmmm our differences make us stronger I hope
Funny, isn’t it? Even in Sydney I missed the “seasons” I was used to, and would drive to Canberra for spring smells and autumn colours. Sydney seems to lurch into summer with very little notice! 🙂