April made her grand entrance under a blue-sky canopy amid a wealth of sunshine—slipping in like a shining-faced ingénue in a diaphanous green gown.
When April arrives there’s no doubt the seasonal corner has been turned, no question that spring has come with irrefutable certainty. Every soft breeze is laden with the unmistakable message—a vernal richness of leavened earth and quickened sap. The heady air carries the fecund energy of woods and wetlands, streams and meadows miraculously rejuvenated by warming sun. Each drawn breath seems sweetened by the burgeoning season.
Spring ephemerals are starting to bloom—delicate flowers in pastel shades straight from a childhood Easter basket.
Buds have appeared on almost every woody plant, from lilacs to maples, honeysuckle to hackberry. Forsythia blooms gleam their gold. Grass glows in brilliant emerald, while willows turn an electric yellow, as if taking a direct charge from the midday sun. Soon many of those buds will flower, while others—tiny, tight curls of new leaves—will unfurl and grow rapidly, almost before our eyes. The distant view through a woods will foreshorten as the field-of-view closes in, drawn into an ever-smaller circle.
April brings resurrection—stirring life that reawakens, emerges, renews, begins. The revivifying earth is thus a verification of hope and a symbol of promise that seeds our belief in a truth eternal.
What a lovely, wonderful, glorious day to be an April fool!
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