A few weeks ago, I wrote a short but awkward post about my love for spring. I had an assignment to write a love letter to a thing, not a person, but I could not think of anything to write about. One day I was walking through the yard and said out loud, “I love spring!” Right then and there, I decided to write my love letter to spring. My post a few weeks ago was my first attempt. My final paper is as follows. Can you see the difference between my two attempts? I hope you can because there is a world of difference!
I am very pleased with my grade on the paper as well as the remarks of my instructor: “Great job, Dianne! I don’t often give a 100, but this assignment was obviously your strong point. Your descriptions were lovely. Do you write poetry? You should!”
The Joys of Spring
I love you, Spring. I have loved you for a long time; in fact, I have loved you for as long as I can remember. I especially love your warmth, your dependability, and your agreeable personality. You are easy to love because you are so pleasant. You delight me so!
I love the warmth you bring with each visit. Do you remember coming to my family’s farm in Utah? If so, you might remember how anxious I was to see you. I was ready to escape the confines of the house that had imprisoned me for the long months of winter. I remember my joy as I flung off my winter coat and ran through the fields still wet from the melting snow. I felt wonderful as I basked in your increasing sunshine.
Spring, I love your dependability and the fact that I can count on seeing you in my life. I gain strength enough to endure and even enjoy the winters because I know you will be here soon. As you know, winters in Alaska are long and extend from October until April; they are cold and dark due to the five to six hours of daylight each day and temperatures dropping to twenty degrees below zero at times. The long, cold, and dark winters make your appearance even better.
I love the way you announce your presence each year. I remember my first winter in Alaska and my longing to see you. I remember wondering if the several feet of snow would ever melt. I watched for you and rejoiced when I found you in a tiny spot of bare earth in the corner where the back deck joined the house. I could feel my soul healing, and I could not resist the urge to dig my fingers into the soil. I knew without any doubt that I have farmer’s blood running through my veins and will forever have the need to feel the warmth and see the life you bring.
After more than forty years in Alaska, dear Spring, I see signs of you all around me, recognizing the first one as the lengthening of the daylight in March. I feel amazement at how your abundant light affects me personally, and I find pleasure in the beautiful changes you convey to the world around me. I perceive how your increasing warmth melts the mounds of dirty, mud-splattered snow to make way for new growth. I watch how you invite the green tips of the daffodil leaves to slowly emerge.
As I stroll through the yard, I recognize your touch on the daisies, lilies, rhubarb, and raspberries as they awaken from their winter’s sleep. I appreciate your influence on the individual blades of grass as they turn green and start to grow. Dear Spring, I see the robins with their red breasts, preparing their nests and searching for insects and worms in the newly raked grass. I see your touch on the birch trees growing a few feet from my kitchen window. I enjoy watching the buds form on the branches and unfold into leaves.
I see evidence of your balminess and beauty all around me. I can barely tolerate the many hours inside doing housework and studying for my classes; I hear your siren call, bidding me to escape once again from the house and bask in your company in the mosquito-free bliss of my surroundings. I thank you for being so cordial and dependable in your stopovers. You make my heart sing just because you are here! I love you, Spring, and I am so happy to see you!