Recently in spring Category

Spring took its sweet time getting here this year--normally the forsythia is in full bloom on my birthday (4/16), but this year there was hardly a blossom to be seen. Today, however, the sun is shining, the temperature is rising, the forsythia is resplendent, and it really, truly, finally feels like spring is here.

Yesterday afternoon, while we were driving home, Gerald looked at me and said "green is gold." And indeed, it finally is. So here's the ninth installation of my annual spring-welcoming poem posting.

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature’s first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

—Robert Frost

Last Sunday, I looked outside, and to my great amazement the forsythia was in bloom and the leaves were beginning to emerge from their buds. I was amazed because this is several weeks before it usually happens. And I know that because every year for the past eight years I've blogged the arrival of spring.

It's the only ritual I've observed on this blog, and it's come to matter to me. However, I've been sick this week, and that--combined with a trip to DC--meant that I didn't get around to marking the arrival of spring in my usual fashion. As a result, I've post-dated this entry...mostly because I use my blog to track my personal history, and I want it to properly record the early arrival of spring in Rochester this year.

Part of the tradition is to share this poem by Robert Frost, one of my favorites, and one that I think of each year when spring begins to emerge from the grayness of the Rochester winter...

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature’s first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

—Robert Frost

Each year since I started this blog I've posted my favorite Robert Frost poem. I do this on the day that Rochester's trees begin to illustrate the poem's imagery, and now that I have six years of data, it seems that Mother Nature is remarkably consistent.

In 2003, I posted on April 22nd, but also noted that I was a day late. In 2004, the post was on April 21st. In 2005, I was in Seattle, where the gold comes early...but my mother let me know on April 20th that it was time to post. In 2006, since I was living in Seattle, I decided to posted on March 31st to celebrate the local flora. In 2007, back in Rochester, I wasn't paying attention, and posted belatedly on April 27th. Last year, determined not to miss it again, I posted on April 19th.

This weekend, I scanned the treetops daily, waiting for the telltale gold to color the tips of the branches. And this morning, on the way to work, it was clear that today's April showers had brought the color I was seeking.

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature’s first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

—Robert Frost

In April of 2003, six months after I'd started publishing this blog, I posted one of my favorite poems--the one that I think of every April (well, March in Seattle, but April in Rochester) as the weather makes its glorious transformation from the relentless gray of winter to the riotous colors of spring

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature’s first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

—Robert Frost

I probably could have posted this a few days earlier; the daffodils bloomed on my birthday (Wednesday), and they brighten my mood every time I look at them.

I'm enjoying the weather all the more because I spend so much time every day walking the dog--and letting her romp in the backyard. She can be a handful sometimes, but mostly she's delightful.

In April of 2003, six months after this blog began, I posted my favorite spring poem. And each year since then I've repeated that ritual, noting the annual arrival of spring's golden-green early buds and leaves. I was apparently too sick last week to notice that spring had sprung, but I'm posting the poem again even though the brief golden moment seems to have passed.

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

--Robert Frost

(see also: 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006)

I don't have many blogging rituals, but marking the first appearance of golden-green spring leaves is one of them. I did it in 2003, 2004, and 2005, and it's time to do it again.

It's remarkable how much earlier spring comes here in the pacific northwest. I noticed the telltale golden glow on the not-quite-bare branches the day we returned from Rochester, nearly a month before the same signs are likely to appear back east.

Here's my annual tribute to this beautiful and fragile time of year.

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

--Robert Frost

In 2003 and 2004 I marked the first "real" (to me) day of spring by posting the Robert Frost poem that the early green-gold leaves on the trees always brings to mind.

This year I'm missing the moment--when I arrived in Seattle spring was already well underway, and I received email today from my mother saying that the moment was at hand back in Rochester. Not surprising, really--in both 2003 and 2004 the green-gold moment was on April 21st.

So here's my annual tribute to this moment in time.

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

--Robert Frost

One of the nice things about maintaining a blog for more than a year is the ability to see annual cycles.

Every year, when Rochester shakes off its interminable wintry grayness and takes on the subtle gold-green of early spring, I'm reminded of my favorite Robert Frost poem, Nothing Gold Can Stay.

By mid-April, I've generally given up hope that spring will ever arrive. But this year, I was able to look back in my archives and see that I'd posted the poem on April 22nd of last year. Mother Nature was consistent this year; I noticed on the drive home last night that we'd hit that golden moment. By this evening, it had already edged closer to green.

Anil has his annual panda joke; I'm thinking that this poem will be my annual ritual, a reminder to me that spring really does come to Rochester, every year.

(I meant to post this yesterday, but the time got away from me. And so did the color.)

On my drive home from work, I thought to myself--"It's today." Every year I wait for this day. The day that Robert Frost's words float through my head, helping me to recognize the importance of living in the moment.