“Sweet April showers do Spring May flowers.” – Thomas Tusser, A Hundred Good Points of Husbandry (1557).
This is a rhyme I have often heard but never thought too much of. In the Sonoran desert, our rainy season hits in midsummer, not April, and other than the rare perfectly manicured suburban lawn, there are not too many flowers to speak of in May. However, since my move into the mountains, I have developed a deeper connection with this age-old phrase, and with the change of seasons itself.
April is nearly over now, and it has certainly been a damp one. The state has experienced major flooding on multiple occasions, as well as a severe landslide at the end of the runway at Charleston’s Yeager Airport that has displaced several families from their homes. My heart goes out to those people who have been impacted by the weather, and I hope that they will be able to find solutions to the problems resulting from landslides all over the state very soon.
But, as my mother used to say, every cloud has its silver lining. The rains have been crucial to raising the water levels at lakes all across West Virginia, bringing them closer to summer pool for the upcoming recreational season. In addition, creeks, ponds, and temporary pools from the rain are beginning to teem with life as aquatic and amphibious animals have begun mating, and flowers are blooming everywhere. Never before have I seen so many trees, bushes, and lawns covered in blossoms. Even invasive species, like the dandelions and African violets covering our front yard, are a beautiful sight.
I find myself completely fascinated by the revival brought about in the spring. Watching the hillsides transform from shades of brown to shades of green with splashes of white, pink, purple, and red never ceases to amaze me. At times I feel as though my sense of wonder is childlike, and I cannot help but ask dozens of questions of the locals – “What kind of tree is that? What kind of flowers are those? How long will they bloom? Do they come back every year? Is that species indigenous to the area or did someone import it?” I think perhaps it is in our nature to take for granted the things we experience so often, because sometimes my questions grant me some very strange looks from the natives. However, I am always grateful to those who take the time to explain and share their experiences with me, because I want to soak up as much information about my home as I can.
My other springtime quirk is snapping as many flower pictures as I possibly can. I actually spent half an hour yesterday afternoon wandering around campus taking photographs on my cell phone before the sky opened up. Again, this tends to elicit some interesting looks, and I have no doubt that some of the bystanders were thinking to themselves, “Hasn’t that girl ever seen flowering plants before?” Little do they know that for all the years I spent surrounded by cacti and Palo Verde trees, I may as well not have. These blooms are unlike anything I ever saw growing up, and knowing that all too soon they will be replaced by a myriad of greens, I plan to enjoy their presence as much as my schedule will allow.
Here are a few of the photos I’ve snapped this week…
Now I feel like I am having a Julie Andrews moment where I could burst into song about all of my favorite things. Dew drops on roses and the smell of cut grass, bird calls and rainfall and lakes smooth as glass… But in all seriousness, springtime in the Mountain State is one of my most favorite things. When you have a moment, take the time to pause and observe the scenery changing around you. Who knows – you may just discover a new favorite thing or two.









