Spring Has Sprung!

Spring, finally, has sprung.

Two weeks ago, it seemed as if it’d never get here! The last couple of months have been cooler than normal, and I believe cloudier, too. Tree buds opened late. Flowers have delayed their blooming. Garden planting has been put off. I’ve only mowed the lawn twice so far. Well, it probably needed it three times, but I digress. The point is, the first mowing didn’t happen until late April. In previous years, I’ve fired up the Toro in March.

Then as if a giant switch got flipped, it turned hot. Really hot—at least for northwest Illinois in early May. Several 90+ degree days in a row shocked the system used to chilly temps. Sort of used to them, anyway.

And just like that, everything’s popped open. The peonies grew a foot overnight. Lilacs broke open and spilled their sweet fragrance. Dandelions scattered yellow dots across lawns everywhere—before quickly turning to white puffs that disappeared in a blustery south wind.

Trees that two weeks ago were still bare are once again full of vibrant green leaves. The grass grew so rapidly that we’ve all struggled to keep up with it.

And so has the Creeping Charlie, crabgrass, and other nuisances.

In fact, along one side of our driveway where we planted some decorative grass, some kind of ivy looks like it wants to take over—Morning Glory, I’ve been told. Last year, I didn’t even notice the plant until midsummer when just a very few vines tangled themselves in the tall grass. I thought I had pulled them out at the root. Guess not, because this year the stuff is everywhere in the patch!

Spring may be late (by our calculation), but we knew it would come eventually. It always does. We’ve been here before.

Some years, trees bud in early March and we’re mowing the grass by the third week. In those years, gardens are planted, seeds sprouted, and lettuce cut by now.

Ten years ago in early April, someone suggested we visit Franklin Creek State Park, about 25 miles east of us near Franklin Grove. The Bluebells are in full bloom already, I was told. Normally they don’t pop out in all their glory until around Mother’s Day.

So I took the next day off, and my bride and I ventured out on a sunny, slightly cool day to see what all the fuss was about.

We were not disappointed.

Initially, there wasn’t much to see, at least as far as flowers were concerned. The trail is pleasant enough and even features a couple of creek crossings. And there was a smattering of blossoms to enjoy along the way, too. It was all new to us—we’d never been to this park before.

But then we came across the Virginia Bluebells.

In a large swath of the forest floor, they were everywhere! The narrow trail wound its way through the lush growth of flowers—it was like wading through a Bluebell pond. We lingered for quite a while, taking it all in, snapping photos, exploring.

Once you get into “exploration” mode, things open up before you other than what you were initially looking for. Mayapple, Columbine, White Fawnlily, Yellow Bellwort and more attracted our attention. Taking a narrow side trail led us into a ravine with a stream running through it.

And there, growing out of the moss in a rotting log, grew a fascinating crop of…something. It looked like alfalfa sprouts, but certainly wasn’t.

Oddly enough, in spite of a wonderful afternoon in a place not so far away, we’ve yet to return. I guess that was a unique year with an early spring that allowed for some flexibility.

Other years are like this one. Everything’s late. But it always comes, Spring does. We can count on it to show up eventually.

And when Spring does come and settle in, and the living things lying dormant through the Winter months break out in new life once again, our spirits lift and hearts rejoice. If we have musical talent, we may even break out in song or play a Serenade to Spring.

We take it all for granted, don’t we? The inevitable fading of Winter gradually yields to the warmer days of Spring, the return of April showers, and their promise of May flowers. For a few weeks, we open the windows and witness the transition from a pleasant, gentle Spring breeze to a warm, stuffy blast of Summer heat. Until late August when Summer melts into Autumn, which ushers in Winter.  

It’s all so very predictable, isn’t it?

But why?

Ask a meteorologist and he’s sure to tell you. He’ll regale you with scientific explanations so complex your head will reel from it all.

And he wouldn’t be wrong. He just doesn’t go back far enough.

Why does most of the globe have very predictable seasons? Why the climate cycles? Why the hydrological influence? Why the solar effects? Why IS our world the way it is? Why isn’t it like Mars or Venus?

Part of the answer lies in Genesis 1 with the creation account. God formed this globe by the utterance of His voice, then suspended it in space at the precise distance from the sun so that life—human, animal, plant—could thrive. He shrouded it with a protective layer so the sun’s harmful effects would be filtered out; its beneficial rays, allowed in. The moon, not so far away, doesn’t enjoy earth’s features…and consequently cannot support life.

Were this orb a few hundred thousand miles further removed from the sun, we’d freeze to death. A few hundred thousand miles closer, we’d fry.

But Genesis 1 is only part of the reason we have reliable seasons. A further answer is offered in Genesis 8, at the conclusion of the record of The Flood.

That global catastrophe changed everything: topography, geology, climatology, and so much more.

The planet was still well suited for sustaining life, but it seems in the after-effects of The Flood that some times of the year would be more hospitable than others. In other words, noticeable seasons were born. Born then, and to be counted upon thereafter.

After promising never again to “curse the ground for man’s sake, although the imagination of man’s heart is evil from his youth,” God also vowed never again to destroy every living thing as He had done. God declared:

While the earth remains,
Seedtime and harvest,
Cold and heat,
Winter and summer,
And day and night
Shall not cease. 

– Genesis 8:21-22

So why can you count on Spring’s inevitable arrival…and then Summer’s…and then Winter’s…and then Spring’s return…and then…?

Because God said so. You can always count on what God says to be so.