Flirt

Spring is a flirt. She comes sashaying in for a day or two and then departs abruptly for places unknown.

The season has arrived on our calendars and our clocks have sprung forward. Primavera, however, is still doing her annual tease. I have lived on the planet long enough to be wise to Spring’s siren songs.

The snow brush and ice scraper will remain under the seat of my car. Even if I leave the house in sandals and sans jacket, a winter coat and boots will be stashed in the trunk. The outdoor furniture will linger under wraps in the garage.

Inside, the quilt will reside at the foot of the bed. The summer clothes will stay nestled in the far back of the closet, and I will still be making those hearty soups in the kitchen.

My advice to robins is “extend your winter vacations”. Chipmunks and groundhogs should sleep in a bit longer. Tulips, daffodils and crocus should all think twice about poking up their tender, green leaves. Contrary to scientific rumor, snow is not the best blanket.

Spring, be warned, you will not be breaking my heart this year. I’ll trust you around May 30th.

 

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