Harbingers of Spring

I once again went on a midnight run through the hills, drawn by perhaps one final opportunity to enjoy the last chill of winter’s breath on the night air. Even on a dark, moonless night, my path and the world around me lit only by the distant lights of civilization and the faint glow of the stars in the heavens above, I would have had to have been blind not to have been overwhelmed by the multitude of portents of the coming spring that surrounded me as I ran through the hills and orchards.

I must admit that it was not the chorus of frogs singing their song of love to prospective mates at the pond in the vineyard, nor the sweet smell of some unseen fragrant blossom wafting on the night breeze, nor even the breeze itself, cool, but yet not quite as chill as it would have been ere a month earlier, that spoke to me so strongly of the coming dawn of summer.

I was impressed by the unexpected and awe-inspiring shooting star that blazed a fiery-bright path across my path as I climbed towards the top of the hills, an omen portending an event worthy of note by the bards and poets of ancient times, yet still not the sign that I sought.

Indeed, as I paused at the peak of the highest of the hills, enjoying the view of glow of the city beneath me on one side, and the dark of the wilds on the other, feeling that frosty edge to the air that I drew into my lungs as I caught my breath, the surest sign of spring was not even the warm feelings of love and longing for those closest to me in my heart, yet distant and far away from my side.

No for me, as for our distant ancestors who marked the passing of the seasons by the march of the constellations across the heavens, the one unmistakable sign of the passing of winter was the sight of Scorpio rearing its head above the eastern edge of the world, the red glow of its heart, Antares, already beginning its ascent toward its position of prominence in the summer night sky. I quickly turned on my heel and looked wistfully westward, hoping to catch one last glimpse of the mighty hunter Orion, knowing even before I looked that his time had already gone and that the winter heaven’s guardian had retired from his post. Overhead, Leo, the lion, stood watch, but only briefly, his time too soon to pass in deference to the ascension of the summer firmament. Winter has gone, spring is come.

Yes, all of these signs of spring passed before me, surrounded me, and even on this dark, moonless night I found my senses overwhelmed and myself immersed in the coming of the new season. So, I entreat you, my friends and colleagues, to let not the change of seasons pass by you un-noticed and encourage you to go for a walk in the evening and seek out that herald of spring which sings the strongest to you and revel in the moment, for few in life are as sweet. Good night and God bless