When The World Is Mud-Luscious

It may seem that I am a bit obsessed with spring, and with good reason. The equinox arrived yesterday, and soon the park will burst into lacy pale-green branches and cherry blossoms, the Yankees will return to the Stadium, and I may even feel inspired to wear a color.

I love these and the other rituals of spring: the Easter Parade, Passover, egg-balancing. And falling in love. Not that there's ever a bad time for that, but the season has historically brought it out in me.

e.e. cummings expressed the glorious sensuality and fun of spring at any age so well:

in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman

whistles far and wee

and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer
old balloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's
spring
and
the

goat-footed

balloonMan whistles
far
and
wee

I am going to go run around the reservoir now. If I'm lucky I'll see a crocus poking through the still-cold ground.