Here She Comes

wattle

Spring comes. She drifts. We bring in early signs of her. Cuttings of jasmine. The first white hyacinth. Laying them on the kitchen table. The scent fills up the cracks in the wood left by winter, lingering long after vases and positions on windowsills have been found.

The mandarins are out. Imperials. They are dressed for the carnival. Their skins peel as easily as paper. We eat them on the lawn, catching the aroma of the pith under our fingernails.

The short days are lengthening. The lead pencil streets turn pigeon blue. We close our eyes and dream of sand and sea.

The gum trees thrust freshly manicured fingers to the sky. Grasshoppers pause, losing footing on burnished bark.

Cats sit on warm stone and stretch, languidly regarding bugs in the grass. The poets shake off their winter coats, examining the way the afternoon light has changed.

We know her. She comes every year, yet her arrival is almost a surprise. It is as if we had forgotten her brilliance. She nudges us, gentle and familiar, reminding us that the colours in her palette have only just begun to appear.

It is endless, this change. And it never stops us from wondering.

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19 thoughts on “Here She Comes

  1. Oh Selma we have had the longest winter ever and today was the first real springy day. Your post hit it spot on.

    Also- thanks for your lovely comment at Bookaholic. I didn’t want to comment there and be a person who comments about their own interview. Then I had a virus last week and lost everyone’s emails when my computer needed erasing so I couldn’t email you. So THANKS! You’re a sweetie.

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  2. Yeah Spring, the end of winter – no more going to work in the dark and coming home in the dark.

    Lovely post, Selma,

    David

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  3. KAREN:
    It’s the feeling of lightness that gets me. It’s as if a veil has been lifted. September is just about my most favourite month even though it usually means a bit of asthma. I love it!

    QUERULOUS SQUIRREL:
    It has made my day to hear from you. YAY! I still do a double take with the opposite seasons myself. Especially around December when it is sweltering here and you are possibly experiencing snow. It’s a big world out there!

    JOY:
    Couldn’t agree more. I don’t get to the beach enough so this summer I’m going to make a concerted effort. So nice of you to visit.

    LAURI:
    I felt our winter was really long too. And cold. It’s good to see the sun shining.

    It was my pleasure to comment and I really meant everything I said. I don’t think you realise how much you inspire me. You have stopped me from just burning all my manuscripts many a time. I do appreciate you sharing your writing experiences.

    DAVID:
    That’s the worst, isn’t it? Going to work in the dark really stinks on a Monday morning. Even the most unwavering optimist would experience Mondayitis under those conditions. Bring on daylight saving even though it fades the curtains πŸ˜‰

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  4. TIMOTEO:
    That is a lovely thing to say. I am thrilled and very grateful!

    DAOINE:
    I love magnolias. They are stunning. What colour do you have? I used to have a pale pink and white one before the new owners of my old house chopped it down. I felt like they were chopping off one of my limbs. I gave them the death stare but it didn’t work!

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  5. I love winter but I also love Spring. There is something about those first mild sunny days that just lifts your spirits.

    That picture of an Acacia is gorgeous. Is it in your garden? Our school grounds are full of them, about 50 different species, and all planted by the Hort students. We’ve been outside today getting ready for a big planting session although I’ll have to sit on the sidelines unfortunately. The teacher said I can be supervisor and pass the tools…sigh. 😦

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  6. So amazing to consider spring arriving when the first leaves are falling, here in Canada. What a glorious photo Sel and beautiful words to accompany. She….love that! Of course spring would have to be. πŸ™‚

    Hugs, G

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  7. I love the newness and promise of spring. I love how you are celebrating the newness as I celebrate the death and promise of rebirth that Autumn brings where I live.

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  8. GYPSY:
    The acacia is in the local park. Everyone stops to look at it. I don’t think they can believe the colour. Oh, I hope you feel better soon, hon. It must be a drag only being able to pass the tools. Look after yourself XX

    NANNA:
    I would love to see the autumn photos. Oh, I really hope you do it. That would be brilliant!

    GERALDINE:
    I do think of spring as being female. It just seems to fit somehow. We truly are at opposite ends of the earth, aren’t we? The change of seasons highlights that!

    TRAVELRAT:
    They are a little early this year, aren’t they? Will pop over and read that article in a minute!

    TOBEME:
    Everything has its time, eh? These changes just highlight the wonderful cycle of life. So enjoyable to watch!

    MELEAH:
    I try. You are so kind XXX

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  9. Ours are huge blooms – a medium pink on the outside and white inside with just a hint of pink. I love that you can look at them from different directions and see a totally different colour flower. But I’ve also seen some utterly gorgeous dark magenta single-tone flowers – would love to get one of those one day.

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  10. Hi FAIQA,
    The change of seasons is great. However, I miss the way it was when I lived in the UK. The changes are much more obvious there. Almost a bit of an event!

    Hi DAOINE,
    I’ve seen the magenta ones too. They are gorgeous. Yours sound stunning. You make me want a magnolia so bad. I just love them!

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