|Snicker. The blog is named after him.|
by Valerie L. Egar
If I were spring, I’d be full of surprises. I’d start the day with sunshine, then, grey clouds would appear. Rain! I’d blow umbrellas inside out, and make big puddles for boots to splash in. Just for fun, I’d paint a rainbow in the sky.
If I were spring, I’d be contrary. I’d make a few days so warm, everyone would pack their sleds at the back of the garage or high in a loft and bring out baseball bats and bikes. Then, I’d laugh and make it snow.
I’d be an artist. I’d pop up yellow and purple crocuses on a grey day, just to hear people say, “Ahhhh!” I’d put bright yellow dandelions right in the middle of the lawn. Bluebirds would fly in green meadows.
I’d work hard. I’d make the sap rise in the trees and when the sugar houses started to boil maple sap to make syrup, I’d make the wind blow so everyone could smell the sugar and smile. I’d look for sheets on clotheslines, and whip a breeze around them, scenting them with wind and sunshine. I’d melt ice on lakes and big piles of snow. I’d thaw the earth and worms would peek out. Mmm! The robins would like that.
Playing jokes would be fun and I’d know a few good ones— blowing hats off heads, tangling kites in trees. I’d make mud and plenty of it— gooey, messy, sticky, slimy, slippery, sink-in-until-it-sucks-your-shoe-off mud. Into the mud goes your bare foot! Squish! That would be my best joke.
If I were spring, I’d have a few friends almost everybody dislikes. Pollen. Mosquitoes. Black flies. The pollen that causes allergic people to sneeze helps make seeds for new plants. Mosquitoes and black flies feed birds and frogs. Even though people don’t like them, I appreciate them because I understand what they do.
If I were spring, just when people thought I’d come to stay, I’d invite winter back for a quick visit and snow would fall. Daffodils frosted by snow, I like that.
I’d be more musical than a symphony! Peepers singing in the evening in the wetlands, birds chattering and whistling, foxes barking in fields. Add the sounds of children playing outside and radios blasting from open car windows. I’d be a lot noisier than winter.
I’d be colorful, too, not grey and white, drab like winter. Trees greening. Pink and purple tulips blooming in gardens. Bright packets of flower and vegetable seeds in hardware stores, yellow slickers and red rain boots.
I would make people feel hopeful and energized so they plant peas in April to harvest for the Fourth of July and crowd tomato seedlings indoors on window sills.
I would fill the air with scents that announce I have arrived: freshly plowed earth and new mown grass, sweet hyacinths, the first hamburgers on the grill. I would whisper, open your window when you sleep tonight and let me refresh you in your dreams.