It’s mid-January; not even mid-winter yet; 60 days or so until the official first day of spring. Outside, it’s a bright white world. Sunshine’s brilliant snow glare becomes a magical glow in the moonlight. It’s beautiful, but everything seems still, like we’re stuck in a slack tide.
Take heart, for things are beginning to change. Though this is typically one of the year’s coldest weeks around Boston, we’ve now achieved the 20’s of January. Next it’s sunset at 5pm, followed by the double digits of February, the onset of the short-named months (March vs. February), and then the longed-for double digits of March. Other signs: the first delicate crocus shoots poking out of the snow, and the tiny red tips of peonies that pop up in my south-facing garden. The birds have been silent a while, but by mid-February, if you’re up early enough, you can hear a symphony of optimistic songs, announcing that it’s coming, yes-sir-ee, spring’s coming.
A couple of days ago, my sister in Oregon reported that she found violets in the woods behind her house. At least it’s started somewhere. In fact, this particular call is an annual event, for being my sister, she tracks her springtime too and tries to give me hope that it won’t be long before it arrives here.
I need additional inspiration to get through these first milestones, though, especially in February, which passes like early sap from a maple. I visit places with distinct smells that conjure up fond memories, induce pleasure, and jolt me out of my midwinter doldrums. Some of my favorite smell spots are coffee shops, bakeries in the morning when bread’s in the oven, art supply stores, florists, shoe stores, and libraries (not just any library; old libraries smell sweeter than the new ones).
But the best place of all is Home Depot. It smells alive, like spring, summer, fall, like everything but the dead of winter. I walk through the door one January day and whoosh I’m in a huge, warm, well lit bubble where people are walking purposefully in sneakers like they’re already into their spring projects. Even though three people ask for snow blowers (they are sold out), I am swept away by the smell in the lumber department, the incense of spring. My husband, his parka still zipped up, tells me it’s eau de oak, then leaves me to inhale alone while he goes in search of quarter-inch washers. I savor the perfume of the freshly cut wood, taking deep breaths, trying not to be too obvious. Sparrows twitter and fly around in the rafters . For those ten minutes, I’m convinced that it’s already spring out there, that we better hurry and get going on our projects.
Hi Kay,
ReplyDeleteI didn't see it coming. Home Depot? Made me laugh! I can imagine you standing there, sniffing. I was sniffing my cat's hair yesterday, trying to determine if he smelled faintly of someone's chemically scented house or woodsmoke that hangs heavily in the cold neighborhood air. I felt a momentary pang of jealousy. My cat visiting another? But at second sniff, I decided it was woodsmoke.
Shannon