Spring

Two amazing things have happened since I last posted: 1. I've got my husband back, 2. The city has turned from a drab pile of stone with a lid of fog into a lively bustling place with lots of green.

It happened at a breathtaking speed. 6 Weeks ago, it was Easter, and it was essentially winter. I probably should have written a nice blog entry about the festivities and the customs and the foods, (and probably also how I used to host a non-denominational Easter breakfast in Tucson for my friends). But in all honesty: it wasn't the best Easter I've ever seen. Sure, there were nice things, such as spending some good times with my mother. But I missed Steve, it felt wrong not to have him around. And on Easter Saturday at night, usually the time of a first brave attempt of sitting in the yard, in the warmth of a smaller or larger bonfire, the view from the front porch was this:

Yes, those are snowflakes. Thick, slow-falling, the Christmas kind. The next day, on the mandatory Easter Sunday walk (which really should be about snowdrops and crocuses on the first swampy, defrosting meadows), I had a late shot at some Alpine winter postcard scenery.

 

April 1, 2013, no joke.

Mexican poppies, the quintessential Arizona spring flower.

Now, of course it's not like I didn't know this kind of stuff. Plenty of Admont winters I remember ended sometime in mid- to late April. But intellectual knowledge is only one kind of knowledge. After 5 years of sunshine, I had no more feel for what was supposed to be happening. People around me were getting impatient, telling me all about how spring was supposed to be here by now, but as far as I was concerned, this was simply eternal winter. (Just like in Tucson, in mid-October of 2007, I had no concept of it being "fall", because I had no feel for how the seasons worked there, and as far as I was concerned, it was simply eternal summer.) Not that I liked the eternal winter, it sucked, but so did not having my husband with me. The idea of being married felt just as abstract as the idea that all those sad trees would suddenly, miraculously, start to grow leaves. Staring out any window, into the snow, it felt like the wedding was ages ago and spring ages away. And even farther away, there was a Tucson spring going on which used to be the reality for me, full of spring flowers, canyons flowing with meltwater, nesting white-winged doves and blissfully mild temperatures. Prime hiking season. It felt so depressingly far away that I tried not to think too much about it. Every once in a while, I'd get my heart broken by glorious spring hiking pictures and photos of golden Mexican poppies somewhere on the social networks. But for the most part, I resigned myself to winter and focused on work.

Southern Arizona spring: a field of Mexican poppies on the slopes of Picacho peak.

And then, all of a sudden, the whole thing was over. Within a week, everything turned around. On April 8, after a week of serious snowfall, the sun came out. Within just a couple of days, the snow was gone. And suddenly, on April 14, it was summer. As in, short sleeve T-shirt weather. A day later, Steve came back. On April 21, we took a hike through blooming trees with tender green leaves, over green meadows and forest floors full of wild garlic.  

Spring in Lainzer Tiergarten

And now? Green everywhere. Big leaves. High grass. Blooming chestnut trees. Fragrant lilacs. Lunches, dinners and beers outside. People lounging on the grass in parks. My first light sunburn. All within a couple of weeks. And: waking up and going to sleep with my husband, every day. It all feels perfectly normal. However, it is not normal, but great. Between Steve's return and spring, life has improved by about 300%.