I have been loving the advent of this current springtime more than any other I can remember. We didn't make it back to Indiana until mid-April last year and so we had already missed the first blossoms when they are at their brightest and hardiest. And of course we didn't experienced last spring as the far side of a cold and dreary Indiana winter - and that makes a difference in appreciation levels for sure.
And maybe I'm just a bit more melancholy than past years, but this spring has inspired in me just as much sadness as awe. Maybe it's because I'm getting older and the kids are leaving the nest and I am unexpectedly in the midst of reevaluating my career trajectory while in my 50s.
I guess things are feeling so ... temporary.
To top it all off, recently (some of) my 8th graders have been reading The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton and she has the narrator at one point recite a famous Robert Frost poem he learned in school.
And it is a sad little poem:
Nothing Gold Can Stay
And the second is just four days later: