I have never really been much a fan of Spring. Fall and Winter is more my jam, with the vibrant natural earth tones, scarves and boots and big jackets, rain and all the promise of holiday celebrations. Maybe its because living in California, Spring just means that we trade the rain in one day for 90 degree heat the next and the return of a blazing sun who will relentlessly scorch our skin until November. Sunshine is a truly beautiful thing, but I feel like I’m constantly being let down by not getting enough rain and too much of Mr. Sun in Los Angeles.
For a very long time, Spring was actually a pretty depressing time for me. Everyone out there in the world was living their life, throwing open the windows and singing about the Earth waking up and shaking off the snow; meanwhile, in the movie of my life, the frost was just starting to grow thick around my cold little heart. I was a very emotional teenager and I’m sure I am not alone in admitting that.
Without fail though, every Spring I became a very different person. I hid in my room more, I listened to more sad songs, I wrote more sad entries to myself in my diary.
**cue early 2000’s emo music here**
Awhile back I finally said enough was enough and it was time to bury all of the old Springtime ghosts. I said my final words and waved goodbye as they sailed off on a ship.
Should I lie and say that immediately I fell in love with Spring? No. I only tell truths here. Spring and I are still not the bestest of friends. I’m not going to be buying friendship necklaces anytime soon and there will certainly not be matching Springtime tattoos. Fall is just too beautiful and Winter is just too magical. (Summer and I have been broken up since I graduated school, no surprises there.)
So why did I come here today to write all of this hatred about Spring? Well, I guess it’s time to admit that after all of the rain we had this Winter, (still not enough, TBH, sorry LA rain haters…), I am actually very appreciative of the Spring (but really Summer) weather we are starting to have. Maybe it’s the fact that now having a child, I appreciate how much easier life is when it’s not pouring rain. No clumsy fumbling between an umbrella and a baby. No issues transferring him in and out of a car seat and the back and forth with a winter coat. Being able to take him outside and let him play in the grass, it’s beautiful, I have to admit.
So here we are, I’ll come clean, Spring is beautiful to me now. This week I realized that my favorite flower is tied completely to this time of year. Very literally, Jasmine goes into hibernation from October to March and is now just beginning to come alive. Only the scent of lavender has the same type of effect on me as Jasmine flowers do.
When a Jasmine bush is blooming nearby I can’t help but smile. I see my mom and I planting a Jasmine plant in our apartment building before the earthquake. I see the early college years walking to 7/11 with my college besties when Northridge is just coming alive with Jasmine everywhere. I see Philip showing up to my front door for our first date with a bouquet of Jasmine. It instantly puts me in a good mood and all of my worries vanish for a little bit.
I mean, the flower is a very literal white star and I very literally go starry eyed when I see and smell Jasmine nearby.
Maybe what I needed all those years ago was to leave my bedroom for a little bit and literally just go for a walk to smell the flowers. Or maybe I should have just spent my hard earned teenage paychecks on a jasmine plant to put outside my bedroom window. Probably the walking part but also realistically, both.
So here I am, encouraging you that if you need to warm over an icy heart or maybe you just need a moment of peace, just get the heck outside and smell that Jasmine… it does wonders.
BRB – trying to make this be my backyard RIGHT NOW.