Maybe I should get used to the idea that Spring skips Utah, or prepare my mind to the fact that Her ephemeral visit leaves a longing worse than looking at pictures of the Caribbean in January. Like the rest of Utahns, my family and I pretend winter is over, and after the morning snow melts from the sidewalk, we water the frost burnt flowers and head to the soccer games, outdoors birthday parties, and sporting events like watching The Real Salt Lake—bundled up like we're going skiing.
Even the trees join the pretend-Spring. They bloom in fragrant flowers. The white petaled clusters look like popcorn, just like the children's song says. The babbling creek in our backyard lures us to its side, but it's still too cold to venture out. At least for me.
"I can't live like this," I told my friend today, like I do every May.
So today, in honor of May Day, and to let Spring know we are ready for her to come and please stay, the kids tied ribbons in the ancient hawthorn tree in our secret garden. For a moment the sun came out, shining on the kids as they made their wishes. My wish was to let the moment last forever. But like Spring's visit, it lasted an instant. All that is left are the blue ribbons on the tree and the pictures I had the good sense to take.
Chubbers learning how to tie her ribbon
Team work: she holds the branch, Gorgeous ties
Making wishes is hard work
My pagan kids