Cape Cod Spring
Spring comes late to the Cape because the ocean is so cold. But it’s worth the wait. Especially after a frozen winter with an enormous amount of snow. The trees that were black skeletons against the stark white of snow and the gray sky, are putting out their baby leaves. Viburnum and lilacs scent the air while daffodils and forsythia, as yellow as the sun, brighten the days. Ornamental cherry trees bloom in sweetheart pink then cover the ground like snow with their soft petals. A pair of Canadian geese glide together on the pond, turtles climb on the log to sun themselves, and bull frogs serenade the evenings.
Dawn—announced by a cacophony of birdsong—is early on this strip of land, farther east than most of the coast. The sun rose at 5:16 this morning, and so did Livia, my cat. There is a nest of Eastern Phoebes tucked into the corner under the deck. Livia approaches on tiptoe and peers through the boards above the nest like an expectant grandmother. She checks on them several times a day.
Science has been removing mystery from our lives. Spring—in all its glory—brings it back.