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Years ago, I couldn’t understand why older adults who called themselves “snow birds,” would fly south to “winter over” in warmer climates like Florida or Arizona. Oh, I got it, to a certain extent. Cleveland winters are not for pansies. They are cold and icy, and in some years, seemingly endless. But picking up and moving to a warmer climate for three or more months? Well, that always sounded a bit extreme, even given the extremes of our weather patterns, which can bury us in snow or turn our homes into ice castles.

But after this past winter, when we were pummeled with more snow and ice than I can remember since the winters of my youth, I finally got it. And who knows? Maybe one day I will proudly join the ranks of snowbirds and fly south for the winter.

I don’t mean to complain about the weather, because, after all, it’s finally spring, and for that I’m supremely grateful! I’m just struck by how much resistance I had to the cold and snow this year, and how much I pined for the first signs of spring. I don’t know if we typically become less tolerant of the cold the older we get. Or if at a certain point, we just get fed up with the endless shoveling. The numbing (literally) cold. That closed-up, stuck-inside feeling that we endure year after year. Until we’re ready to scream “enough already!”

Still, sometimes I wonder if we would appreciate the coming of spring as much, if we lived in a warmer climate. Would I get as excited about the first flowers that miraculously appear each year? The crocuses and snowdrops in purples and yellows and brilliant whites that climb out of the earth, against all odds, to show their beautiful faces, regardless of the lingering signs of winter.

For many years, autumn was my favorite season, with its riot of colors and that sense of new adventure that I once associated with heading back to school, even when I was no longer heading back there.

These days, though, spring is my favorite season. For me, it is a season of hope and possibilities, a time of rebirth and growth and trying on new ways of being in the world.

It is also a time for returning to nature. For taking pleasure in the first buds forming on the trees, the first hints of green, the thawing of the creeks.

This past weekend, on the eve of spring, my husband and I took our first hike in one of our favorite parks, The West Woods. We love the park because of its mature forest, and the fact that we almost always have the woods to ourselves. It is so quiet there, such a sacred place. Quiet enough to hear the whistle of robins and the shiver of the last papery beech leaves that haven’t yet drifted to the earth. And quiet enough to hear the trickle of pine sap traveling its way down the trees.

For me, spring is also about planting seeds. Figurative and literal. In the earth and in my mind. I don’t know how you feel about spring. But wherever you live and whatever season you are in, in life, I wish you a happy spring. May the spring season fill you with hope, may the seeds you plant today take root in your garden and in your life, and may all your dreams come true.

Ellen Brown is a certified professional coach, based in Cleveland, OH, and a regular columnist on ShareWIK.com.  Visit her website at http://ellen-brown.com. 

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