What Kate Came To Love About Springtime
Posted 04-10-2012 at 07:08 PM by KatieGal
Spring is here, I guess. Here in Yuma it is a bit hard to determine when spring has sprung, as the saying goes. The warm climate of Yuma makes it difficult to tell. What’s more, winter comes late. In fact, compared to the rest of the country, there really isn’t much in the way of a winter at all. I grew up in Phoenix. Like Yuma, it is hard to get a real appreciation of the oncoming of spring. It’s just not that big a deal.
Fortunately, I went to college in Ithaca, New York. Among other things, while there I discovered an appreciation for the oncoming of spring. After a hard winter in Ithaca there is nothing as delightful as a sunny spring day. I came to greatly appreciate them.
Maybe it’s just me, a visitor from the Southwest, but while in Ithaca I thought one of the real enchantments of a new spring to be the scents that will permeate a breeze that time of the year. Don’t get me wrong, I love the beauty of the blossoming quince bush, but for some reason what my nose detects sometimes overpowers what my eyes see. Having said that, you might think that I luxuriated in the aroma of blossoms and newly sprouted wildflowers, and although that was true, other scents seemed to be calling “spring” in an equally profound way.
One warm spring day after class, I came across a blacktop parking lot that was in the process of being resurfaced. As I approached, I could see that the parking lot entrances were roped off and there were tar-stained work trucks parked nearby. A moment later I got a whiff of the aroma of fresh blacktop sealant. My god, there was nothing like it. “Winter is gone!” the odor seemed to be shouting. I thought it was utterly heavenly.
I was hiking down an Ithaca sidestreet on a sunny spring Saturday when I came upon a man mowing his lawn. There was a faint cloud of blue exhaust smoke hovering behind the man as he marched stoically back and forth across his yard, pushing his grumbling gas mower. I slowed my pace as I passed. I wondered, Can anything say “spring” like the fragrance of freshly cut grass combined with the odor of a slightly out-of-tune, lawnmower engine? And the off-key drone of the tiny engine seemed to add to the mystique. It was the perfect blend of Americana and springtime. I knew winter was finally dead and gone.
God help me for saying this but I liked the scent of lawn chemicals in the spring. For some reason the odor of fertilizer and herbicides seemed strangely appealing on a spring day in Ithaca. The mere notion that the scent of lawn chemicals could be pleasant seemed contrary to both my sense of logic [I]and[/I] environmentalism, but I just couldn’t help it.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the coming of spring in Yuma too. But spring came to Yuma almost two months ago… well, best I could tell.
Fortunately, I went to college in Ithaca, New York. Among other things, while there I discovered an appreciation for the oncoming of spring. After a hard winter in Ithaca there is nothing as delightful as a sunny spring day. I came to greatly appreciate them.
Maybe it’s just me, a visitor from the Southwest, but while in Ithaca I thought one of the real enchantments of a new spring to be the scents that will permeate a breeze that time of the year. Don’t get me wrong, I love the beauty of the blossoming quince bush, but for some reason what my nose detects sometimes overpowers what my eyes see. Having said that, you might think that I luxuriated in the aroma of blossoms and newly sprouted wildflowers, and although that was true, other scents seemed to be calling “spring” in an equally profound way.
One warm spring day after class, I came across a blacktop parking lot that was in the process of being resurfaced. As I approached, I could see that the parking lot entrances were roped off and there were tar-stained work trucks parked nearby. A moment later I got a whiff of the aroma of fresh blacktop sealant. My god, there was nothing like it. “Winter is gone!” the odor seemed to be shouting. I thought it was utterly heavenly.
I was hiking down an Ithaca sidestreet on a sunny spring Saturday when I came upon a man mowing his lawn. There was a faint cloud of blue exhaust smoke hovering behind the man as he marched stoically back and forth across his yard, pushing his grumbling gas mower. I slowed my pace as I passed. I wondered, Can anything say “spring” like the fragrance of freshly cut grass combined with the odor of a slightly out-of-tune, lawnmower engine? And the off-key drone of the tiny engine seemed to add to the mystique. It was the perfect blend of Americana and springtime. I knew winter was finally dead and gone.
God help me for saying this but I liked the scent of lawn chemicals in the spring. For some reason the odor of fertilizer and herbicides seemed strangely appealing on a spring day in Ithaca. The mere notion that the scent of lawn chemicals could be pleasant seemed contrary to both my sense of logic [I]and[/I] environmentalism, but I just couldn’t help it.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the coming of spring in Yuma too. But spring came to Yuma almost two months ago… well, best I could tell.
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