Whatever the Weather, It’s Still Spring

Stranger In A Strange Land – No. 13
A friend told me it snowed the other day in the Windy City. Yet, just days before, temperatures had climbed toward 80°F.

That’s the frustration about Spring in the upper Midwest. Flowers peep out in the heat, then lose their chance to blossom when snow returns. The palette that washes across the Horse Capital of the World is long delayed in the North.

My father had a favorite ditty that made sense in the Land of Lincoln, but not in the Bluegrass State:

Spring has sprung,
the grass has riz.
I wonder where
the flowers iz.

Thanks to my father, I’m experiencing the season of renewal in a new way—in glorious color. Unlike the North, the rise of the early perennials and the blooms of the flowering trees last longer here. Now Spring in the South will always conjure memories of the man who gave me life and the spirit with which to enjoy it.

This is part of an ongoing series regarding my transition from the Land of Lincoln to the Bluegrass State. For a list of previous articles in the series, type Stranger in a Strange Land into Lull’s search function on the right.