Why Spring is the best season

The joy of hope, of fresh starts, new beginnings and possibilities, writes Frances Whiting on all the things she loves about Spring.

A few years ago, when I got into an elevator, an elderly man in a three-piece suit smiled at me, tipped his hat and said “Joy in the morning”. Now, I don’t know if this is a common phrase, I certainly hadn’t heard it before, or since, but I thought it was lovely, not least because I’m not really a “joy in the morning” sort of gal. I’m more of a “What sort of fresh hell is this?” gal at the start of a new day.

But since that day, I’ve tried to remember to find joy in each morning, because I thought at the time that if a man who is clearly several decades older than me, and has probably had his fair share of trials and tribulations, can still appreciate each new day, then dammit, so can I.

And for the most part, I’ve been pretty successful at finding that joy in the morning – especially these mornings. Because spring has sprung and with it, this season’s own particular joy.

Frances Whiting explains why she loves spring.

The joy of hope. Of fresh starts. New beginnings. Possibilities.

For me, spring is the season of, “I’ll give it a crack”, “Why not?”, “I failed before, but I’ll have another go”, “Right, let’s have it, shall we?”

There is something in the air on a crisp spring morning that makes us feel that things are possible in a way that summer, autumn and winter cannot. The sun-kissed heat of a summer’s dawning, the leaf shifting breeze of autumn and the cool breath of a winter wake-up are all lovely in their own way, but they cannot put a literal spring in our step the way this particular season can. And we need it, don’t we?

We need it in this world of ours at the moment when it seems there’s more than the usual portion to worry about, especially for the younger members of our tribes. Warmongers playing their deadly games, interest rates and oceans rising, house prices and rental spikes, global pandemics and social media telling all of us, in various ways, that we are not enough.

But this season reminds us, in the unfurling of its colours and sights and scents, of another world that still exists, just beneath the surface.

Frances Whiting lists all the things she loves about Spring.

A world of green tipped shoots in garden beds, of nodding, yellow daffodils and pastel rows of sweet peas, of white winged cockatoos swinging on telegraph wires, the flash of a rainbow lorikeet, the dizzying fragrance of a star jasmine vine.

It’s the blush of alpine blooms in Kosciuszko, Tassie’s lavender fields of dreams, outrageously bright tulips in Melbourne’s Fitzroy Gardens, lollipop pinks and reds of Adelaide’s rhododendrons, shoulder-high sunflowers in Queensland.

I know, spring also brings its challenges: eye streaming, yellow demon of wattle for the hay fever sufferers, the terrifying whirr of a maggie’s black and white-tipped wings above our heads. But, for the most part, spring wears her beauty defiantly despite it all.

So for these next few weeks, before summer’s hot breath is on our collective skin, I wish you all joy in the morning also. And I thank that gentleman in the elevator that day, for helping me find mine.

Originally published as Why Spring is the best season