Spring is the most terpsichorean of seasons. The way flowers suddenly sprout from trees that were bare just a few days ago has the same magical quality of a grand jeté or one of Chango’s somersaults. This is the time of the year when daffodils crane their necks, like ballerinas, to peer upwards at the still let’s-play-hide-and-seek sun. Birds stage their own version of the X Factor and nature slowly awakens from its stupor. Like a dancer, nature stretches its cramped muscles, atrophied by what this year has been an endless cold snap.
Spring in my garden
Performers are show-offs. It’s one of the unwritten rules we all learn the minute we put on our leotards, tracksuit bottoms or shorts. We want to be seen, we want to be acknowledged and if praise is also given, then, it’s a hat-trick for us. Spring is the same. It boasts the smell of the first blossoms, the sensual, effervescent energy of animals leaping about after spending months in their winter lair and the melodic whistles of winged creatures. No wonder spring’s one of my favourite seasons together with autumn. But, whilst the latter’s beauty lies in its slow demise and the colours it uses to draw its death, the former conjures up life at the snap of its green fingers. The early morning chill is usually replaced by the welcoming warmth of the afternoon sun. And in the midst of this beautiful madness it’s not rare to come across butterflies challenging each other in a dance-off.
Yes, for one season only, nature becomes Terpsichore, choral song included.
This is “see you later” from me. As usual I will go into hibernation for a whole month. There won’t be much activity on my blog because I will be away from my computer almost totally. Thanks for your comments and support. I wish you all a happy Easter break!
