Spring was a time daffodil heads were snapped off stems when pounded by rain. Sprouting too early (late february — early march!), the daffodils along with short crocuses were flattened. Spring, however, was a time of resilience and growth.
Fall and spring don’t happen much anymore. Everything is either frigid or searing. Winter or summer. Summer —just the sound of it: a gentle “uh” and soft m’s— sounds light, airy, restful. It isn’t. Folks don’t leave their shelters while the sun still shines anymore.