A Spring Day

Today has, so far, been everything the weatherman promised. 70-some degrees; sunny, and with just enough breeze to keep things from getting sticky.

I just finished cutting the grass for the first time and now I am relaxing on my porch swing with a beer and my laptop. Blog time.

I have tried before to describe a day like this and failed miserably. I don't think it was my word craft that was at fault; I just don't think the right words exist. Its easy to describe things that comparisons exist for. Like cute as a bug, or busy as a beaver. Some one can be described as horse-faced and you instantly know the look.

How do you describe the blue hue of the sky on a day like this? It has a shade of blue both light and deep, that carries its own iridescence. It blue of the sky isn't covered, but somehow enhanced by the white and indigo of the clouds. If I was sitting under this sky I would swear i was part of the sett from the Wizard of Oz. Do you remember how when we were young- and color TVs were rare- when on Easter (i think it was) they would show the Wizard of Oz on TV? Remember how that shade of blue of teh sky when Dorothy opened the door in to Oz?

Yep; that sky.

And the grass has that shade of green reserved for early spring and movie sets. It s the dark shimmering green you only see this time of year. And in fertilizer ads. There are still patches where some of the blades are behind schedule, and if you look close you can see them stretching and yawning, trying to come to life.

Its not just the sights, but the sounds. every kind of bird is perched in one tree or another; calling greetings back and forth, with the occasion screeched curse thrown in for good measure.  The wind chime is joining the chorus, followed closely by the bark of an agitated squirrel and the distant slamming of a wood screen door; sounds that are the soundtrack of summer, but here in a supporting role.

And we can't forget the smells; what does fresh cut grass smell like? We all know the smell, and we know what it means. but what combination of ingredients comprise 'Fresh Cut Grass'? One of teh smells of summer we can't do without, but couldn't describe if our life depended on it. Intermixed are the pungent smell of gasoline, and the faint smell of daffodils. Flowers are the interloper they will be later in the yer; now its just a hint in the background of floral presence, like the hint of sugar in a glass of well made sweet tea.

There is also the smell of supper cooking inside. Potatoes cooking in the oven, and a thick steak cooking in the cast iron skuillet, adding a sound of its own as well; a sizzle and pop distinctive to beef on the heat.

How can we forget the tastes? Or right now, just taste? Cold Beer; a Rolling Rock; the only possible reward for a quality mowing job? Crisp; just a touch of tang to sizzle the tongue on the finish. Cold as last month; with a smattering of ice crystals floating on the top of the can.

When it is all said and done you can't describe a day like this; it has to be experienced. and once it has been experienced, nothing is comparable.