It isn’t that I’ve forgotten the snow or the cold. And given the choice between 9 degrees or 90 I would gladly choose the latter. So it’s not the sudden heat that bothers me, it’s how it hurries us along. Spring is best when it dallies, when it moves slowly from the brave, yellow flowers of late March – forsythia and daffodils — to the pink dogwood of mid April to the vivid azaleas of early May. Cram all of that blooming into one week and you not only end up with a wicked sinus headache but also a seasonal overload.
A one-week spring? I might as well be living back in Chicago, where spring occurred somewhere between the middle of May (when temperatures could still dip below freezing) and the beginning of June (when they would soar into the 90s). I expect better of D.C. But of course, we have what we have, so down to the basement I went to dig out a few warm weather clothes. And today I’ll have my camera with me (as I did over the weekend–the photo above was taken out the car window and is supposed to give the impression of movement!). If spring is coming in with warp speed, I want to capture it.