The arrival of spring is heralded all over the world with celebrations of various kinds. And while everyone thinks spring in their part of the world is the most special, I must confess, I must agree.
Spring in upstate New York is perhaps the most anticipated season of all. When the landscape transforms from the cold, barren grey to sunny, less cold, and the promise of life - held forth by yellow daffodils dancing in the breeze and multi-colored flowers springing to life in gardens everywhere. The road salt is washed away by gentle spring showers and everything is suddenly fresh and new. Windows that have long been shut tight to keep out the cold air are opened to let the springtime in.. It is a glorious season - energizing, uplifting, with the promise of good things to come.
I remember my first spring in New York - it had been a cold long winter of removing snow off the car, scraping ice off the windshield, that perilous feeling in the bottom of your stomach as your car spins out of control because you dared go 15 miles an hour in the snow, constantly feeling cold, hands, feet and nose never ever getting warm enough - what had I been thinking - snow was not fun, and pretty only when it fell in the distant woodlands. The best snow was the kind that had melted already.
It had also been a very difficult winter - adjusting to the realities of the new country I had moved to, getting used to the people I had been living with. Everything was so different from Bombay and its warmth and friendship. There were no people on the street, not even one. My successful advertising career in Bombay seemed so distant and irrelevant in this town that recognized just computer scientists and lawyers and doctors. I think that was the winter in which I put on my first 20 pounds. Was it the depression, low energy gloominess ? Was it the fact that you never walked anywhere ? Never got to see yourself in the mirror without 3 layers of clothing ? Or was it that everyday seemed dark and grey ?
And then early one morning I was making myself a cup of tea - indian style - and I looked out the kitchen window to this glorious sight - a tall tulip/magnolia tree covered in buds that were about to open. 23 years later, I can still feel the sense of joy and euphoria that shot through me upon seeing it. Yes, winter is finally over. Yes!! There is hope. Yes!! There will be renewal. Yes!! The good times will return..........
Of course everyone who has lived here for a few years is familiar with this phenomenon and so no one was impressed by my discovery - especially my brother whom I must have called at 6:15 his time on a Saturday morning to tell him I had seen the light.
Twenty three springs have come and gone. And yet I continue to be delighted by this renewal of life and energy. Five years ago, when I moved into this house, I planted (or got the landscapers to plant) a beautiful garden that would bloom with flowers from spring to fall. Carefully placed, in my line of sight outside my home office window, where I spend most of my day, is a beautiful magnolia tree. It stands there looking like an ordinary tree all summer long. In the fall it sheds its leaves and stands barren through the long, cold winter. But at the end of March it sprouts the most promising buds that in April turn into the most incredible blooms that covered a tree.
Five years - and I have never once seen this tree in bloom - because invariably I have been away from my home office, only to return to see the spent blooms on the grass around it. The first year the weather was bad. The second year it was a 3-week trip to Australia. The third, fourth and fifth years I was in Delhi while the tree did its thing.
The tree is covered in tight little buds and I have no long trips planned away from home this year. So will this be the year I finally see my magnolia bloom ?
Spring in upstate New York is perhaps the most anticipated season of all. When the landscape transforms from the cold, barren grey to sunny, less cold, and the promise of life - held forth by yellow daffodils dancing in the breeze and multi-colored flowers springing to life in gardens everywhere. The road salt is washed away by gentle spring showers and everything is suddenly fresh and new. Windows that have long been shut tight to keep out the cold air are opened to let the springtime in.. It is a glorious season - energizing, uplifting, with the promise of good things to come.
I remember my first spring in New York - it had been a cold long winter of removing snow off the car, scraping ice off the windshield, that perilous feeling in the bottom of your stomach as your car spins out of control because you dared go 15 miles an hour in the snow, constantly feeling cold, hands, feet and nose never ever getting warm enough - what had I been thinking - snow was not fun, and pretty only when it fell in the distant woodlands. The best snow was the kind that had melted already.
It had also been a very difficult winter - adjusting to the realities of the new country I had moved to, getting used to the people I had been living with. Everything was so different from Bombay and its warmth and friendship. There were no people on the street, not even one. My successful advertising career in Bombay seemed so distant and irrelevant in this town that recognized just computer scientists and lawyers and doctors. I think that was the winter in which I put on my first 20 pounds. Was it the depression, low energy gloominess ? Was it the fact that you never walked anywhere ? Never got to see yourself in the mirror without 3 layers of clothing ? Or was it that everyday seemed dark and grey ?
And then early one morning I was making myself a cup of tea - indian style - and I looked out the kitchen window to this glorious sight - a tall tulip/magnolia tree covered in buds that were about to open. 23 years later, I can still feel the sense of joy and euphoria that shot through me upon seeing it. Yes, winter is finally over. Yes!! There is hope. Yes!! There will be renewal. Yes!! The good times will return..........
Of course everyone who has lived here for a few years is familiar with this phenomenon and so no one was impressed by my discovery - especially my brother whom I must have called at 6:15 his time on a Saturday morning to tell him I had seen the light.
Twenty three springs have come and gone. And yet I continue to be delighted by this renewal of life and energy. Five years ago, when I moved into this house, I planted (or got the landscapers to plant) a beautiful garden that would bloom with flowers from spring to fall. Carefully placed, in my line of sight outside my home office window, where I spend most of my day, is a beautiful magnolia tree. It stands there looking like an ordinary tree all summer long. In the fall it sheds its leaves and stands barren through the long, cold winter. But at the end of March it sprouts the most promising buds that in April turn into the most incredible blooms that covered a tree.
Five years - and I have never once seen this tree in bloom - because invariably I have been away from my home office, only to return to see the spent blooms on the grass around it. The first year the weather was bad. The second year it was a 3-week trip to Australia. The third, fourth and fifth years I was in Delhi while the tree did its thing.
The tree is covered in tight little buds and I have no long trips planned away from home this year. So will this be the year I finally see my magnolia bloom ?
Yes I too remember the feeling of my heart lifting with joy at the sight of the first daffodills and the pink blossoms covering trees in the neighbourhood from my balcony up on the 20th floor after long winter months of snow and melting slush and more snow and the cold day after day after day. Spring brought its own gifts for the soul!! Enjoy the view from your window!
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