Spring is in the air

After months of frost, freezing rains, dying palm trees, and even snow, spring has finally come to our neck of the woods. With the utter lack of an Indian summer last year and a winter that on started October 1, I had almost forgotten what flowers and blooming plants looked like, and started to believe that our grass would never turn green again. But then, yesterday, as I was driving home, I finally noticed promising amounts of teeny tiny white-green blossoms on all of the peartrees in our neighborhood. A few other trees were also starting to show tiny red buds, but since I, a true arbor-ignoramus, don't know their names, we'll leave them out of this pastoral picture for now. All the other trees are still bare, but the blossoms really perked me up. It's really amazing it's taken so long, but this year, where the winter was almost arctic for our standards, spring is a little behind. Usually spring arrives sometime during the aptly named spring break, and I'll be driving through the blossoms on my first day back to work. This year that drive is probably still a week or two away.
On a side-note, I believe that we are the only part of the country where this actually applies, and was wondering why other other places don't rename their break "we wish it was spring break" as the words "spring break" seem outright cruel when you're still facing snow and frost.

But anyway, spring is now officially in the air, and with that, I could not stay indoors for long. And considering the week I've had, this is really a miracle. I won't bore you with the sleepless details of a week that started on Saturday, less than twelve hours after we got back from our break, that included two very late nights, and that culminated in a night of grading that didn't end until midnight, leaving me with four hours of sleep, but let's just say I've had better weeks. Any person in their right mind would taken last night off, parked themselves on the couch, and dedicated their night to eating their way through an entire chocolate Easter bunny while watching mindless shows on television, and trying to ignore the piles of papers that still needed grading on the kitchen table. But as we all know, at times I am less than lucid, so I decided to go for a run instead. I mean, honestly, chocolate on the couch versus a long and painful run...the choice seems clear, doesn't it? But the fact that husband-dear was telling me I really needed it, which is husband-code for "you're in a really grumpy mood, go and get it rid of it in a place where you can't pick on me", clinched the deal, and I slipped on my running shoes and walked out the door.

And am I glad I did. For about thirty minutes, I once again realized why I, at times anyway, really like living in the south. It started when I was walking down our cul-de-sac, and the ten year old daughter of one of our neighbors, who was skipping in the opposite direction with her younger sister said to me, "My sister thinks you're really pretty."

Well, that just made my night. And my day. And possibly the entire week.
The whole situation was made even more adorable by the fact that she said "prutty" instead of "pretty", a lovely southern twist that will in a couple of years probably morphe into "purty". Where else in the world will you walk down a street to have a little girl tell you you're "prutty"?

But it didn't stop there. I know I've written about the scents of spring in Georgia before, and I was delighted to discover that with the blossoming of the pear trees, the famous scent was back. It was very light, but combined with the crisp spring air, it was absolutely delicious. It was as though someone had light a thousand Glade candles along the road, in one of the best examples of nature imitating art. Add to that the fact that our neighborhood is, unbeknowst to me, awash in pear trees, and I could see the lusciously blooming trees around every corner, and you can imagine that I was elated. Or well, as happy as one can be when running up hills and down long winding roads with joints and muscles that had about four hours of sleep the night before, and were thusprotesting vehemently.

But what really cemented my love for Georgia springs? The amazing sunsets I was rewarded with as I was running home. Orange, red, and purple hues shot through the sky, and even when the sun had disappeared, all the houses and trees were still glowing in a soft red light.

So last night, I think I can honestly I was at peace with the world. And my students. And silly administrators. And piles of grading. Life was good, even if just for one brief half hour.