Proper spring in Indiana is a bipolar shifting from cold to hot, sunshine to twisters, and a single day of bursting growth so that when you turn in for the night and all the world is brown, you will likely wake the next day to thick green grass, budding leaves, and full blooms.
Today is the greyest of grey and the rain is pounding down only to break for a drizzle of hope before the clouds swell and burst again. It's easy to start feeling a bit morose this time of year - especially if (like me) your first baby is selecting courses for high school right now. UGH. But, that's just a whole different can of worms I'm not prepared to crack open at the moment. Rather, I'm thankful that this type of cooped up living is softer than winter's oppression and we can crack windows so that the thick, warm, wet air can crawl in carrying the odor of dirt on its back. It is spring's special gloom with hope for golden sun on its tail - a fine promise of joy.
Mae is particularly happy about the return of the dandelions. They're sunny little spots that burst from the earth letting us know that more cheery yellow is on the way. When we pulled into the drive after school Friday she gasped, "MAMA!! The dandelions! Just... look at them." We are the strange few that welcome the weeds and use them all summer long from our dedicated 'lion patch in the garden. My little lady is a proficient harvester of greens, blooms, and tap roots alike and her favorite summer project is carefully trimming the petals for dandelion jelly. I'm most looking forward to the return of dandelion vinaigrette to my kitchen. With the weight of so much change and transition compressing me right now, it is most definitely these small traditions that bring me back to center!