Over There (in the UK)

April 21, 2004 at 4 PM

Spring sprang sprong

Waiting for spring in Southern Quebec is a study in patience and humility.

The conditions may seem right. The mittens and toques have been put away, the heavy coat is moved to the rear of the closet. The skies open to offer rain, glorious rain, which the newly thawed ground eagerly soaks up. The sun shines, it’s still shining when you leave work, and its warmth is palpable, inspiring you to walk home.

An early thunder storm reminds you of the summer to come.

Slowly, ever slowly, little buds sprout up from the earth, and grass reclaims its turf, but it’s a timid effort, as if they might tempt the wrath of a late snowstorm through sheer hubris.

A few delicate flowers have made their entrance, but the trees look solemn and grey and the tulips are still but mild-mannered green shoots. One day’s heat is blown away by the next’s northern chill.

Soon we’ll launch full tilt into summer, and the blossoms and dew will be forgotten — spring here is comically short. Meanwhile, though, we’re still waiting to hear the rustling of the first leaves.


There is that pre green-sprouty period of the spring where the snow melts to reveal countless dog turds, trash and pretzel-shaped bicycles. I guess we don’t think of it as spring because it’s so danged gross.

— ERIC | Apr. 22, 2004 — 5 PM

Previously: SndRec32 Mks Btfl Music

Subsequently: Not a Hard Bargain

April 2004
the Archives

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