Chirping could be heard from all directions, as an upside-down squirrel ate from our bird feeder.
The early morning sun was low and long. Dew drops sparkled on each blade of grass, and tiny, green buds dotted the tree branches. Chirping could be heard from all directions, as an upside-down squirrel ate from our bird feeder.
Everything was lush.
I can't pinpoint when my favorite day of the year actually happens, but I know it when I see it. It's when spring is finally here.
It's when my daughters question whether or not they really need shoes to go outside.
Under a deep blue sky, my 3-year-old and I drove around a winding road toward home. She asked me to open all the windows and turn the radio down.
"That giant bunny is going to squish our car," she said.
"Wha?" I replied. "Giant bunny?"
"Yeah, there's a giant bunny that's going to land on our car," she confirmed.
I looked around the road but saw no bunny. Her little face lit up in the rear view mirror, and she laughed.
"Up there," she said pointing out the window. "See the big, fluffy bunny?"
Floating in the blue sky above was a very large and fluffy cloud that looked just like a rabbit. As we cruised up a hill, the cloud looked as if it was coming toward us.
"Whoa," I said. "I hope it doesn't land on us."
She agreed. I asked her if the bunny had a name. She laughed and shook her head. "It's just a cloud, daddy," she said. "Don't be crazy."
Then I wondered aloud, what does a giant cloud bunny eat?
"Carrots," she replied.
When we got home, I asked if she wanted to take a walk around the neighborhood. Yes, she said, adding she needed to make some wishes.
"Wishes?" I asked.
She bent down and picked a white, puffy dandelion.
"You just blow on this and make a wish, and it'll come true," she said. Then she put it too close to her lips and blew, sending half of the tiny spores into the air and leaving the other half on her face. She looked up at me with a frozen grimace and I wiped her face clean.
"Did your wish come true?" I asked. "Or do you need to try again?"
When she didn't answer, I started to walk.
"It did! It did!" she replied. "I wished we would go on a walk and it came true!"
Around the corner she saw more dandelions and asked if she could pick them. Her worry was she didn't want to steal any wishes from anyone's yard.
"I think they'll be OK with it," I said. This seemed strange to her. Who would give up perfectly good wishes?
She made a couple of hard-thought wishes by the time we made it half way around the block. But when I picked another and offered it to her, she declined.
"If you make too many wishes, you might forget what you wished for," she reasoned.
I think the thing I love about this time of year is that everything, and everyone, blossoms.
David Manley is an editor at The Canton Repository. Reach him at firstname.lastname@example.org.
On Twitter: @davemanley