Daffodill, 2020
By Bobby Padilla
Digital photo
Regardless, it’s Spring. Despite half of March, all of April, and potentially May being cancelled from everyone’s calendar, Spring doesn’t care. While everything isn’t quite in bloom some defiant daffodils poked out from my muddy front yard, more flowers will follow. With the encouragement of a few 60-degree days, trees will bud. So many of us look forward to this time of year for many different reasons. But for all intents and purposes Spring is being skipped. Perhaps I’m being a little dramatic. Despite being on lockdown, we can still enjoy our yards and gardens. We could still do our obligatory Spring clean up but it's going to feel different. The good news is you don’t have to wait until the weekend, pick a day, any day.
Spring
By Luis Alverez Roure
Oil on canvas
The reality is Spring will come and go, if nothing but through the looking glass. The social end of what most of us associate with Spring is what’s missing. Empty parks full of lilacs and cherry blossoms, vacant playgrounds and bike trails. For me, it’s one of my favorite times, Opening Day. Yes, I will miss not sitting on a damp windy 45-degree day at the ballpark complaining about not bringing a warmer jacket and joking about not having to worry about my beer getting warm.
Enjoying the grandeur of spring from the “shut in” position will be a tough pill to swallow for us all. April showers this year may make that pill chase down easier. So, let nature take its course. Slowly, the color will return to the lawn, the fires of Fall will be replaced by soft pastels within the treetops. Flowers will sprout and bloom, with daffodils, hyacinths and tulips leading the way in front of the parade of color that will follow through the neighborhood.
Spring, 1981
By Earle Eyvind
Multimedia illistration
Regardless of social distancing, you may go for a walk at a park. As routine as may seem, it’ll be a strange sensation, it’ll feel like stealing or being somewhere you’re not supposed be. I imagine as April progresses people will find it hard not to sneak out to local parks, particularly those with little ones. The indiscriminate background soundtrack of kids laughing and playing is a joyful noise that you’ll miss once you don’t have it. Soon the distant sound of neighbors cutting grass will return as well. I imagine we’ll all notice the little things absent that signified Spring to us.
Meridian Street, Thawing Weather, 1887
By Theodore Clement Steele
Oil on canvas
So, here’s to the spray of yellow daffodils that popped and look up facing the sun, proudly, defiantly, and say “What pandemic?” I suppose the things that typically inspire us in the Spring can still do just that. Thus, no need to stifle your creativity, take it all in. Remember, you have time now and little excuse.
Spring is Rampant
By Tatyana Yablonska
Pastel on paper
