The Problem with Spring

Spring makes me glad all over again that we have long cold dark days that ripen into flaming petals of outrageous colors, visual performances onstage of words written in the late night hours, and of little girls leaping in tutus with steps learned week after week during the long months of buildup. Every spring as the tulips wave their colorful hellos from the beds, I think, "I'm planting more bulbs in fall." Every fall, I fail to plant the hundreds of tulips I had envisioned seeing in spring. 

The problem with spring is that you have to do the work in the dark days to get to the sunny ones.

Spring makes me glad all over again that we have long cold dark days that ripen into flaming petals of outrageous colors, visual performances onstage of words written in the late night hours, and of little girls leaping in tutus with steps learned week after week during the long months of buildup. Every spring as the tulips wave their colorful hellos from the beds, I think, "I'm planting more bulbs in fall." Every fall, I fail to plant the hundreds of tulips I had envisioned seeing in spring. 

The problem with spring is that you have to do the work in the dark days to get to the sunny ones.