I prefer the light green leaves and migratory songs of spring. I love the rebirth of the entire state. Those who stay and incur the mental abuse of the permacloud no doubt need spring. Those who secretly enjoy this time…these are my people.
But I also long for green fuzz day. That day where you walk out of your house and much unlike the day before, all of the canopy has softened with the seemingly instant mane of spring. This is the final lifting of winter. I enjoy the slight chill to the air in the mornings and the slow to come warmth of afternoons. But mostly I love the daily chorus of winged songsters, noisily moving through canopy and cover, from winter feeding grounds to summer breeding territories further the north. Some will stay, but most move on. Stopping only briefly to recharge their song-filled souls with the bounty of spring. My soul is recharged as well, but not in two years. Not in this way.
When I migrate back, I do so under the permacloud. It’s a frozen, harsh landscape, one often reflected in the faces of its residents. But I don’t mind. I like the challenge of finding a softer, more welcoming side. It’s there if you look; if you want to find it. Long gone is the spring fuzz. It’s much closer to that coming day again, than to when it happened last. A mental teaser to battle the permacloud perhaps. The only remnants of that day that remain are a few oak leaves still clinging tightly to the canopy. No songsters are heard. Only a few hardy individuals that brave the frigid air and water of this landscape remain. I like them too. I can empathize with them on some level. We both search for what sustains us in an almost unsustainable place and time. If this is the only taste of home I get each year, I’m fine. I want more, almost need more, but I’m fine because honestly I can find the fuzz and song elsewhere, but what I can’t find elsewhere is the comfort and underlying calm of home. That will always remain. And like those migratory songsters, I’ll always faithfully return to extract as much from the landscape as possible, if only for a brief period.