Winter comes every year to the north of Sweden where I live. We often have snow från October to May, and this year we had even more than usual. In the last weeks of April my soul hungers for colour, any other colour than the white and grey and muted evergreen thats been all nature has offered for the last six months.
And then: the first brave crocus. Just days after that the snow has melted enough to release a tiny patch of grass next to our house it blooms. If you live in climate where flowers bloom all year long I don’t think you can understand how much it means to me, this tiny first sign of winter finally being over. The sight of it fills me with such joy and gratitude!
It’s been a week since I first saw it this year, a warm week. The snow is almost completely gone now, and nature is exploding into action: the trees are coming into leaf, the rhubarb is starting to grow. We spent the weekend at our cabin by the lake, the start of the season there. That too is a true joy – we rarely see our friends and neighbours there in winter, and it’s so nice to get together again.
In this era of instant gratification I think sometimes we forget how much not having access to something all the time enhances the pleasure once it’s there.