There is the euphoria in different parts of the world as winter moves on to the last steps of its annual rides. Seasons are like dance partners of the wheels of eternity. When we count the years, the thoughts of passing seasons come to us, and they together stride on our sides like an endless measuring tape. We may look over the shoulder and wonder, “How many years have I left behind, and how many seasons are yet to go? Indeed, will I be here to witness the next spring at all?”
While celebrating the warmth of the new season is mostly about the changes it brings to nature, each spring is also a gentle reminder that we have added one more year to live. It means moving on from childhood to youth, and on to the later years. Once our youth passes by, life seems to be going downhill. There is no way we can hold on to it for life is like a one-way journey towards the inevitable end. It is impossible to bring the spring of the past year: the flowers, bees, butterflies to repeat their life cycles. As time is measured between the past, present and the future, seasons reflect their periods through changing sights and sounds. In the world of nature, winter gives away to spring, which in turn leads onto summer, fall and so on. The seasons take us with them at times, and it is during the seasonal changes that we really feel in tune with life. As for me, to walk barefoot on the ground, to explore the grass tease the skin is like the earth talking to me. Telling me, “We are all a part of the Creator, only we come with different faces.”For our physical self, youth brings the fountains of energies. It is supposed to be the epic part of life, to bring out the best of us. Though our physical and mental developments do not always march down the same aisle, youth is more likely to be more optimistic than an aging person. When there is the meeting of a newborn with octogenarians, living is like a common denominator that holds people of all ages together. Age is like a wall that can create distance between people. In the words of William Shakespeare in his poem, ‘Crabbed Age and Youth,’
‘Crabbed age and youth cannot live together:
Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare.
Youth is full of sport, age’s breath is short;Youth is nimble, age is lame;
Youth is hot and bold, age is meek and cold;
Youth is wild, and age is tame.
Age, I do abhor thee; youth I do adore thee.’
For mother nature, spring is about having the perennials back, of daffodils, lilacs and tulips bloom. It means birds coming back to nesting grounds to mate, it means bees getting busy with gathering honey. For people seeking love, it is a season to find someone special in life. And spring is about the rejuvenation of life for countless other living things. The warmth of the season brings in enticing days that set the gypsy souls astir. Youth may be a matter of the age for some, but for those who are young at heart, youth whispers sweet songs even in their sunset years. And so spring may be for septuagenarians to find sweet romance for love knows no boundaries of the seasons.
In Amherst, the sweet little town of Massachusetts, my home at present, the fading winter has people sighing with relief. They keep fingers crossed, hoping that another last snowstorm will not hit, that the daffodils will soon create their yellow waves along the melting snow. What a relief for these people to let go of the coats and boots finally, to be able to show off some summery clothes! The mornings are joyous with the birds calling up, like singing, ‘Hey, hey, the sun is up, get out and enjoy the warmth.”
At workplaces and the public buses, one hears plans for vacations, of which beaches are likely to be warmer around the New England areas. That time of the year, when the sea and sand are calling is just a few paces away. The shops have swimming gears out, the colorful beach sandals seem to wink, and ask, “Hello, when are you buying us?”
And while youth and age, past and present may not blend, the celebrations of life continue at every step.
Dear Readers, if you are not caught in the frenzy of the moment, have forgotten to have a look at the sunrise of the day, just remember this day will not come back again. Every sunset and sunrise is a ‘one-time’ gift of life for us. And if there is a crisis in your life, I am sending prayers for the dark clouds to give away to another blue sky.
And to quote Emily Dickinson, the poet from Amherst, from her poem, A Light Exists in Spring,
“A light exists in spring
Not present on the year
At any other period.
When March is scarcely here
A color stands abroad
On solitary hills
That science cannot overtake,
But human nature feels.”
Tulip Chowdhury writes from Massachusetts, USA