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The winds were high and the sun hidden behind clouds shedding occasional sprinkles of cool rain on our heads forcing us to look upwards and wonder "Is this truly the first day of spring?" It's not much better today. But having lived over 20 years in Florida where spring is just another word the changes in temperature and wildlife and nature's attitude say yes. I once worked with a young man who had moved to Florida from Minnesota and he said he hated spring and the smell of rotting vegetation that came with it. I sniffed for it last year during my first spring and it wasn't so bad. It was even familiar to me reminding me of spring in New Jersey as a kid, getting rid of the heavy clothes, running down the street, playing stick ball and sitting on stoops reading comic books.

But up here, in Hudson Valley, the first day of spring is reminder of winter as well as the lush green months ahead. I pass several apple orchards on my way to New Paltz and see the once ghostly figures covered in snow and ice are now risen from the grave, gray and gaunt waiting for sap to return magically to their limbs. They wait for the green leaves to fill their branches and shade them. They wait for their blossoms to erupt and turn to fruit.

I've missed sitting outside in the morning having my coffee, breathing in whatever pollen might insult my sinuses and feeling the warm rays of the sun caress my scalp. I've missed the thunder storms of late spring that herald hurricane season. I've missed the new blooms and the neighbor's tree hanging over my fence and the sounds of kids playing in the street. I've missed the songbirds and the geese honking overhead. But spring is here in the land that not so long ago was snow and ice. The last vestiges of winter are melted away and very soon I'll be able to sit outside and take in the pleasures of the spring. But the kids are playing, new plants are blooming, the birds are returning and the squirrels in their full gray coats are back.

I feel strangely compelled to clean up my space, to thin out my collections, to put away the winter clothes and to put my summer comforter on the bed. I inhale the scent of rotting vegetation as if it were a magnolia blossom. Spring. Time for new growth. New life. New beginnings. Time to stand tall and take in the warm rays of the sun. Well, they aren't so warm just yet. But it's over 30 degrees and that's a start.

Learn more about this author, Joan Mansson.
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