Second Spring

 

Reblooming rosebush along with rosemary..

           Stop Awhile to Smile

Second spring seems to wreath

Earth’s skin instead of autumn.

Songbirds sing and bees visit

Flowers adorning leaves auburn.

.

Trees sprouting catkins, as if

Winter isn’t imminent, and energy

Best invested in building up

Stores to see it through in utility.

.

I, too, should be inside, busy 

Through fall with words, building

For stores ‘ere the festive season.

But I’ll pause here as ev’ning’s gilding

.

Landscape lying ‘neath green veneer,

To fill a vital store of good cheer.

A horse-chestnut tree in full bloom even as some leaves are falling and the chestnuts are nearly all dropped. Bumblebees taking full advantage of the misstep, though.

So we’ve had what they call a little summer of St Martin… except it was a heatwave. We were up in the thirties every day for over a week, but since it’s October, it cooled during the longer nights down to the teens. And it seems some trees etc think it’s spring again, with the balanced hours of sun and the high temps. So stuff is spouting. Dandelions are dandy, but trees are just wasting energy.

Catkins on a walnut tree with mature nuts ready to eat, and leaves losing their vitality.

The scenes, however, since we’ve had some rain in September so I just soaked it all up instead of working, which I should be, to re-edit and republish my first five adult novels.

More on that before Christmas!

Life is short. And it seems even the trees think so.

Cones on a spruce in October. Pretty sure this is not normal timing.

They say the weather is going to change today. I think it already has.

Spring has sprung… or has it started?

While Spring officially started at the beginning of the month back home in Ireland, in Spain we are still in the middle of winter, with the next season only set to start in another month on the 21st of March.

 

the walls of Pamplona dusted with snow

It is, I admit, the height of skiing season, but even here, the daffodils are shooting up and will soon burst buds, the crocuses in the parks are spotting the grass, and I even saw a few daisy and dandelions the other day. The trees are mostly still bare, but showers of catkins have popped out on a few.

my daughter gathering snow for a snowball fight before it melts

Mostly, though, you can just smell it. The air is different. Despite the snow that we had last week, there’s a feeling of spring that even humans living in a city still experience.

Spring is here, as far as I am concerned.

And summer isn’t far behind. For I saw the bats take their first flight of the year and it reminded me of a poem I wrote last year on the subject of signs of summer, more than spring. It’s perhaps a little premature to be thinking about butterflies and bees, but since I haven’t posted a poem in a while, here it is.

 

Signs of Summer

 

There are many signs of summer coming, here,

Starting perhaps with cuckoo calls and swallow sighting

And the return of the swifts, or

The first flight of the bats at twilight,

The scent of honeysuckle through open balconies and

The abundance of butterflies on the garden lavender,

Some are specific to Spain, like closing the blinds

Against sunlight to keep the house cool, and

Sleeping with the windows open all night

Pouring water to fill the swimming pool and others

Seen only in this city: setting up the tombola,

Putting the fences around the flowers in the park

In preparation for the festivals and digging up

The road to get it ready for the running of the bulls,

And lastly, putting up with the stench of piss

Upon opening up the street door every morning.