The soft tender colours and textures that we associate with spring, lead us to believe that the season emerges gently, softly. Photographers show pastel tints and soft focus images of emerging blooms. In reality, the world is filled with a sense of urgency to grow and procreate. The collared doves and wood pigeons in my garden relentlessly chase each other around. The male pheasants posturize and send out their raucous calls. Anyone who’s witnessed mallards’ courtships will agree that they’re quite aggressive about it: holding the female underwater, males fighting fiercely.
Plants push their way up through the resting dead leaves, struggling to reach the light. On the trees and shrubs, leaves and flowers burst forth. During these few warm days we’re having now at the end of March you can almost watch them grow. The natural world seems to be shouting, NOW! NOW! HURRY!
My tired old soul watches with amazement and the same sense of awe that I feel when I watch my rock-climbing son stubbornly work his way to the top of a boulder using only his fingers and toes. This past winter, with recurring COVID lockdowns and bad weather, has sent me into a form of hibernation. I’m feeling a bit reluctant to emerge, and, as I slowly obey the summons, I feel my creaking joints and atrophied muscles. But the call to join the bustle of life and growth is strong. Besides, I have business to take care of and images to create.