I was born on the first day of Spring. Although the yearly reminder of my accumulating age is the last thing that pleases me, the coming of Spring always does. Yes, I actually saw a robin pulling a worm from the ground the other morning. A hummingbird has come back. The weeds are beginning to grow in the garden before a plant has been planted. Every year I forget the sweetness of Spring until it faithfully starts it’s new cycle. This is the season of such a variety of happenings, personal, natural and man-made.
Spring is the season of the garden providing us with the ability to dig and plant in the cool breeze before the heat sets in. Winter depression is replaced by the hope of renewal, the warmth of the sun, the refreshing winds that fill the air with the scent of the new blossoms. Spring is the season of weddings, garden parties and new love. It is the time to kick off those heavy boots, bulky coats and hats and give the light cotton shirt a new chance. I bet more song writers get more done in Spring – I know I do.
Spring is also the start of the new music scene. Most of us reading this will be planning the next few months around the festivals, campouts and concerts. In between this will be the jams, sleepovers and barbeques that, hopefully, will consume our weekends.
My family used to gather at Grandma’s for Easter. My sisters and I arrived, complete with new Easter hats and dresses, barely unable to contain the excitement. This anticipation continued long into our teen and young adult years to spill over into our own families although, sadly, my Grandmother was no longer with us. We would, of course, hunt for the eggs, feast on springtime dishes like fried chicken and potato salad. No one did the dishes – it was in to the piano for music. My Grandmother always played first! We spanned the years. Grandma would play some of the old tunes from when she played for silent movies and we would all try to guess the movie. My mother would jazz it up a bit with tunes such as Darktown Strutters Ball. My sister would bring us a bit more into the modern world and always finished with Twilight Time. There was no television, therefore no ballgames, and my Dad, Uncles and cousins would all share in the games and music. The adults would dance in what little space was left near the piano. Such a lovely sight! To this day it is how I picture my parents in love.
I believe our minds and emotions are triggered by wonderful memories as a child and I have been blessed with many. The Bluegrass family that I have grown to love replenishes the loss of these old Springtime joys. Each Springs brings the renewal of friendships, smiling, dancing, singing and the air filled with the scent of the new blossoms.
I’ve got a robin dancing on the lawn. Just outside my window a young doe feeds her fawn
I’ve got tomatoes in my garden and a campout in the Spring.
This old guitar I’m playing now has a brand new set of strings.
What could I ask for? How could I want more? Unless it’s to share it with you.
