18 March 2011

everything is new in the spring

Continuing my spring countdown, I turn today to my Anne. Anne of Green Gables, of course, the girl who never disappoints when you want effusions on a season.

{Given my recent rapture on spring—and earlier raptures on fall glories and winter pleasures—I may be the girl who never stops effusing about the seasons. God knew what he was doing when he made me from the Midwest.}

This excerpt isn't actually from Anne of Green Gables. It's Anne of the Island, where Anne is a bit older, a bit more grown-up. But Anne never outgrew those over-dramatic bursts on weather and flowers and the breeze and the smell of every moment.

She was enamoured of the world we find ourselves in, and when I start to get too humdrum, I think of my Anne. I call on the part of me that still wants to be Anne of Green Gables and then I wonder that I could've ever found any day humdrum.

Take this excerpt, for instance. Anne's friend Priscilla talks about that fashion transition from winter to spring.

{So okay, it isn't Anne talking about it, but it's one of her very good friends, and you can tell a lot about a person by who they choose to surround themselves with, can't you?}

I felt that transition yesterday when I wore my flowered shoes and a kicky skirt—and most importantly, no tights. Pale legged but with a skip in my step: this is how I face spring.

If you learn to find joy in small changes, it's easier to find joy in big changes. I am a firm believer in this, and I think I learned it from Anne.

And in this passage, too, she talks about how every spring is new. Doesn't it feel like that? When you see the first bud on a tree, doesn't it always feel like you've never seen that before?

You have, of course, but one of the delights of spring is the surprise of the known.

That's what Anne is talking about here. That's what I'm feeling now, three days before official spring.

She says, "No spring is ever just like any other spring."

And that makes me wonder: what will be special about this spring? What do I hope for this spring {because of all the seasons, isn't spring the one most about hope}?


The fresh chill air was faintly charged with the aroma of pine balsam, and the sky above was crystal clear and blue—a great inverted cup of blessing.

"Spring is singing in my blood today, and the lure of April is abroad on the air. I'm seeing visions and dreaming dreams, Pris. That's because the wind is from the west. I do love the west wind. It sings of hope and gladness, doesn't it? When the east wind blows I always think of sorrowful rain on the eaves and sad waves on a gray shore. When I get old I shall have rheumatism when the wind is east."

"And isn't it jolly when you discard furs and winter garments for the first time and sally forth, like this, in spring attire?" laughed Priscilla. "Don't you feel as if you had been made over new?"

"Everything is new in the spring," said Anne. "Springs themselves are always so new, too. No spring is ever just like any other spring. It always has something of its own to be its own peculiar sweetness. See how green the grass is around that little pond, and how the willow buds are bursting."

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