Anticipation

The occasional patch of snow still litters our April landscape, reminders, like the crumpled cocktail napkins beneath the couch from last night’s party, of a time past. 

I’m not a winter person. I list among my favorite activities, walking on the beach and gardening. But winter has one great attribute: it’s a time of anticipation. I can spend the whole of it looking forward to spring and summer. 

Sometimes anticipation can be sweeter than the event itself. Consider the difference, Red Sox fans, between anticipating this year’s opening day of major league baseball and the game itself. Spring is here now, and we’ve welcomed back robins, rain, daylight, daffodils, green grass, and the smell of fresh earth. Still ahead are apple blossoms, lilac, iris, peonies, roses, and lilies, fresh peas, basil, tomatoes, and sweet corn. 

I love seeing the snow melt from our yard and the buds swell on the branches, love hearing the birds singing to find mates and building nests in the hedges. And, yet, when I see those few remaining patches of snow, I can’t help feeling a certain sweet nostalgia for the pure anticipation of spring.