Promise of Spring
Laundry Day Thoughts - 03.26.2001
Spring arrived last Tuesday. It invaded all my senses and delivered a bright day filled with Promise. Is there anything so sweet in the world as Promise?
Hundreds of pink plastic flamingos landed overnight on the strip in front of the plant nursery, as they do every year on the first day of spring. They'd been preceded for the past month by a lone scout. MBA (Most Brilliant Advertising!) Promise.
Lavender chiffon gowned red buds rapidly blend into a fresh green landscape, full of itself. Promise.
Hungry robins hold backyard camp outs, delaying their journey toward desperate souls up north. Promise.
Doorbells ring as schoolchildren fan out to raise money for one last special project. Promise.
Grocery aisles brim with candy in pastel colored shiny foil, often in bunny shapes... the new Resurrection? Promise.
Shorts emerge from closets and present a whole new wardrobe. Promise.
Spring's worst allergies assail our vocabulary: W-2, file, audit, deduction, refund. Promise.
The yellow Corvette convertible roars out of a winter of doing time in the garage next door. My thoughts turn envy-green. Promise.
Yard chores elbow their way to the top of to-do lists. Promise.
Weathermen on the 10 o'clock news lose harsh words such as "wind chill" and "below zero," and substitute soft talk like "scattered showers" and "clear and sunny." Promise.
Garage sale and realtors' signs spring up faster than tulips and daffodils, their bright neon colors competing for eye space. Promise.
Dry cleaner's racks, stuffed with woolens in dark colors and plaids all winter, set out on their well-earned vacations. Promise.
In spite of assaults by winter colds, noses seek out the smell of rain and the smell of earth. Promise.
Cars, having pushed the envelope of grime-tolerance, look for enough nice weather to make standing in line at the car wash worth it. Promise.
Winter-pale grandparents wheel around the block as back seat drivers for eager faced, happy smiled, new toothed babies in strollers. Sure beats grandpa's treadmill upstairs. Promise!
I love and miss you all,
I don't ask for the meaning of the song of a bird or the rising of the sun on a
There they are,
and they are beautiful.
~ Pete Hamill