“Spring is beautiful, and smells sweet. Spring is when you shake the curtains, and pound on the rugs, and take off your long underwear, and wash in all the corners. “

These spring mornings are sunny and warmish. Right now it is 65°, but the house feels nippy. It still carries a bit of a chill from the cooler night. The high today will only be 68°, but it will be sunny.

I have been bitten by an unknown bug. It causes horrific responses. On Saturday I organized all my music books, all 13 of them. I labeled each spine with the theme of the book, themes like Christmas, Folk, Colors and Motown. I stood the binders up like books so I don’t have move a pile to find one book. They do look good.

Under my serving table in the dining room are two large Peterborough baskets my mother filled with stocking gifts. On Sunday, I decided to pull each out and check what was stored. I was amazed at what I found. There are Christmas serving dishes, pottery casseroles, bowls and several sets of napkins and place mats. Many of those dishes were filled with the shells of sunflower seeds. At the bottom of the basket were piles of kernels. It seems mice once lived in my basket. The next basket had assorted serving bowls and plates. I found wooden bowls with natural edges, but I knew they were there. I also found several napkins and I also found a set of matching place mats, napkins and a table cloth. I have no memory of them whatsoever. At the bottom of the basket were the telltale signs of mice, the empty sunflower kernels. The mice have moved on, perhaps to their heavenly rewards. It took me close to two hours to finish the task.

When spring arrives, Cape Cod has its own traditions. First, the landscapers wake from their hibernation. They fill the road with trucks towing equipment storage trailers. They break the silence of the mornings by mowing lawns and blowing leaves. They cut down trees, mostly pine trees. I can hear people talking. They too come out of hibernation. The cape turns yellow. The forsythias bloom, and the daffodils fill the gardens with pops of color. A layer of green-yellow pine pollen covers every surface, inside and out. Next, all the snow birds appear. They leave the heat of Florida to return to the cooler cape. They fill the roads with their slow moving cars. They bear the brunt of a great deal of cursing. The peepers herald the arrival of spring. They fill the night air with their chorus of trills and chirping. The birds greet the dawn of every morning. The feeders are filled with chickadees, cardinals, blue jays and a few titmice. Doves coo. The aroma of wood burning in fire pits and chimineas sweetens the air. People open their decks at the first sign of any warmth, of any day over 60°. I put my flannel away. I wear my sandals. I sit outside with my coffee and papers. I relish the arrival of every new day in spring.

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