Spring has sprung, the grass has riz
I wonder where the birdies is?
This is my mom's favourite springtime poem to quote. Spring has definitely sprung in Sydney. The grass has been here the whole time and the birdies too, but the flowers are out and the air is warming up and I'm sure the sun would be even brighter than normal if it were to stop raining for a minute.
Last October it felt like fall to me, but this year it actually does feel like spring. I guess I've acclimatised to the seasons. There is only one thing that still trips me up, and that is the holidays.
Christmas does not belong in summer. It just doesn't. After 25 years of trudging to Christmas Eve service in the snow and eating nut butter balls by the fire, I'm not sure the Australian summer Christmas is something I could ever get used to.
Easter does not belong in the fall. Easter means rabbits and baby chicks. Pink and purple eggs and brightly coloured jelly beans that match the flowers I see out the train window every morning. Why isn't Easter just around the corner? I've had bloody Jesus Christ is Risen Today in my head for days.
This weekend is Canadian Thanksgiving, or so the calendar says. I'm having trouble believing it because in my mind, Thanksgiving looks like this:
It tastes like candy corn, Cortland apples straight from the tree and pumpkin pie. It smells like turkey and crumbling maple leaves.
Thanksgiving does not look like this any more than fairy lights belong on palm trees:
In a few weeks, it'll be Halloween. Somewhere in the world, parents will be bundling up their kids with long johns under their costumes and sending them off into the night to scuffle through piles of fallen leaves, or perhaps a flurry, as they scavenge the neighbourhood for candy. Maybe, if the wind is howling strongly enough, someone will light a fire and let a stream of princesses, witches and Harry Potters trickle in to thaw their frozen fingers as my mom and dad always did.
Maybe I'll think about that, here in this Southern corner of the world, as the sun is beating down and the pavement is preparing to sizzle. Or maybe I'll just head to the beach and wonder why I'm in the mood for an apple pie and fireworks.