Spring is in the Air!
While Yurii Andreievich slept his fill, the spring was heating and melting the masses of snow that had fallen all over Russia, first in Moscow on the day they had left and since then all along the way - all that snow they had spent three days clearing off the line at Ust-Nemdinsk, all that thick, deep layer of snow that had settled over immense distances.
At first the snow thawed quietly and secretly from within. But by the time half the gigantic labor was done it could not be hidden any longer and the miracle became visible. Waters came rushing out from below with a roar. The forest stirred in its impenetrable depth and everything in it awoke.
There was plenty of room for the water to play. It flung itself down the rocks, filled every pool to overflowing, and spread. It roared and smoked and steamed in the forest. It streaked through the woods, bogging down in the snow that tried to hinder its movement, it ran hissing on level ground or hurtled down and scattered into a fine spray. The earth was saturated. Ancient pine trees perched on dizzy heights drank the moisture almost from the clouds, and it foamed and dried a rusty white at their roots like beer foam on a mustache.
The sky, drunk with spring and giddy with its fumes, thickened with clouds. Low clouds, drooping at the edges like felt, sailed over the woods and rain leapt from them, warm, smelling of soil and sweat, and washing the last of the black armor-plating of ice from the earth.
Yurii Andreievich woke up, stretched, raised himself on one elbow, and looked and began to listen.
--- Boris Pasternak, Doctor Zhivago (Ch. 7, Sec. 19)
======================================
I'm strongly reminded of this passage today because, for me, today is the 'official' first day of spring. Why? Because today, for the first time after several months, I'll be seeing a sunset as late as 7:00pm. I would never mind the loss of an hour for the pleasure of calling it spring. I look forward to days getting even longer, to warmth and sunshine, to the first green shoots on trees, to hours biking around the city, to throwing the windows open instead of having the heater on at home, to cold strawberry milkshakes instead of hot spiced chai, to listening to John Denver singing '...I do believe that summer's here to stay...', to longer days and shorter nights, to going to the nearby park and flying up and down on the swings like the child in Stevenson's poem, to dark tans - 'turning orange' as Fi puts it, to finding unexpected little bugs whizzing around --- all in all, all that was asleep over the last few months is going to wake up soon and I'm happy to be around to wish life a wonderful morning!
At first the snow thawed quietly and secretly from within. But by the time half the gigantic labor was done it could not be hidden any longer and the miracle became visible. Waters came rushing out from below with a roar. The forest stirred in its impenetrable depth and everything in it awoke.
There was plenty of room for the water to play. It flung itself down the rocks, filled every pool to overflowing, and spread. It roared and smoked and steamed in the forest. It streaked through the woods, bogging down in the snow that tried to hinder its movement, it ran hissing on level ground or hurtled down and scattered into a fine spray. The earth was saturated. Ancient pine trees perched on dizzy heights drank the moisture almost from the clouds, and it foamed and dried a rusty white at their roots like beer foam on a mustache.
The sky, drunk with spring and giddy with its fumes, thickened with clouds. Low clouds, drooping at the edges like felt, sailed over the woods and rain leapt from them, warm, smelling of soil and sweat, and washing the last of the black armor-plating of ice from the earth.
Yurii Andreievich woke up, stretched, raised himself on one elbow, and looked and began to listen.
--- Boris Pasternak, Doctor Zhivago (Ch. 7, Sec. 19)
======================================
I'm strongly reminded of this passage today because, for me, today is the 'official' first day of spring. Why? Because today, for the first time after several months, I'll be seeing a sunset as late as 7:00pm. I would never mind the loss of an hour for the pleasure of calling it spring. I look forward to days getting even longer, to warmth and sunshine, to the first green shoots on trees, to hours biking around the city, to throwing the windows open instead of having the heater on at home, to cold strawberry milkshakes instead of hot spiced chai, to listening to John Denver singing '...I do believe that summer's here to stay...', to longer days and shorter nights, to going to the nearby park and flying up and down on the swings like the child in Stevenson's poem, to dark tans - 'turning orange' as Fi puts it, to finding unexpected little bugs whizzing around --- all in all, all that was asleep over the last few months is going to wake up soon and I'm happy to be around to wish life a wonderful morning!
posted by Summer Showers at
9:20 AM
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