Though we’re still a few days away from the official first day of the season, Monday morning felt like spring to me.

A cool breeze was blowing as my dog ran about the yard trying to find the best place to begin his morning constitutional. 

Squirrels were running across the yard and up trees, driving my neighbor’s dog crazy. 

I saw robins and wrens dart through the sky just above my rooftop, and the shape of a couple of buzzards riding high on the currents. Blooms are coming in on various bushes and trees.

Then a loud HONK startled me. That didn’t sound like one of the Canadian geese that are often on the lake. I looked at the water and it wasn’t — it was a large white swan. It looked majestic and beautiful, but there’s no way I’d try to get close to it. Those things are mean.

Another sign that spring is upon us is that an invisible vice is clamped onto the bride of my nose and won’t let up. My sinuses feel violated. I sneeze pretty often from allergens in the air (oh, that wonderful pine pollen) and the pulse in my head is pounding like a death metal drum onslaught. 

I love the new growth and life I see in the spring. I love to hear the “tink” of aluminum bat vs. baseball or softball leather. I even love the smell of fresh-cut grass, though it may set off a fit of sneezing. 

Spring is a time of new beginnings. For something new to begin, however, something old must come to an end.

My youngest daughter will soon be in her last high school play. It’s her biggest leading role yet, with more lines than everyone else combined, and a constant stage presence. She’ll graduate high school the first weekend of May. A few chapters of her life will close, but new ones will open. She’ll begin university in the fall and chase her dreams. She’ll make new friends, have new opportunities and new experiences.

Her older sister will soon present her thesis to an honors forum. It’s her most important public presentation to date. She’ll also wrap up her internship at a high school as she finishes her degree in psychology. She’ll graduate about 14 hours after her sister does, then get ready to start her master’s degree in the fall. She’ll also make new friends, have new opportunities and new experiences.

One of my nieces is getting married the weekend before my daughters’ graduations. Talk about a new chapter in life. 

All of these events are temporary, but all serve as doorways, windows, bookends, or whatever other metaphor you want to use. Maybe mile markers is a good one — we can look back to see where we’ve been, look ahead to where we’re going. 

I’m excited for my girls. When I look at them, I see beauty (inner and outer) and determination. I see hesitation and anticipation. I see new life.

Feels like spring.

 

News editor Brett Campbell can be reached at brett.campbell@dailyleader.com.