"when the world is mudlucious" (ee cummings)

The snow has finally melted and we are finding the beginnings of crocuses and daffodils pushing through the ground.  The sandbox got uncovered today by an eager two-year old ready for warmer days.  E donned her best rain gear for a romp on the swings. 

It takes some good old-fashioned New England fortitude not to despair at this time of year.  We've been trapped inside since November. All the coziness of blustery apple pie days and the nostalgia of Christmas cheer have long been collecting dust with the canning supplies and holiday decorations in my basement. My girls are literally climbing the walls.

Still, there's nothing like the appearance of brown earth after a long frozen February to stir hope up a bit.  For all the gray skies and muck of March, there's something about a "mudlucious," "puddle-wonderful" New England spring.  It stirs up anticipation and memory, because we all know what's coming--blue skies, cool breezes (instead of bitter winds), green earth, gardening, days at the beach, and getting to know our neighbors again (we haven't seen each other in months, even though our dwelling places stand just feet apart).

There are many rites of spring at our house.  They include puddle jumping, family walks along the river, trays of seedlings warming in the sun, afternoon snacks on the front steps, outdoor grilling (even if that means shoveling a spring snow off the top of the grill on occasion), and hunting the ground and sky for signs of new life.  They remind us that while spring may not have arrived quite yet, it's just around the corner, the ground warming as we wait.

What are your rites of spring?

Wherever and however you find yourself waiting for spring, you might enjoy this poem by ee cummings.
http://www.poetry-archive.com/c/in_just.html