Written by Alisha M. Forrester Scott | Alisha is a writer, artist, and social entrepreneur.
My body feels at ease amongst wild Spring grasses and budding fruit trees. The gentle scents of plants coming back to life lure me outside, more often. Perfectly soothing breezes make daily rests on the rooftop deck a must-do. Insects and birds fill the skies with their extraordinary colors, sounds, and songs.
Last March, I arrived to Arizona for about a month; coming back from two years in the SF Bay Area, on my way to Albuquerque, NM. I enjoyed the poppies and the mysterious Desert Tortoise. This year, Spring begins on March 20. Only, here in the Sedona area, Spring seems to have already began. BUT, REALLY. The Farmer’s Almanac says that it’s not Spring; that it’s Winter.
What I have learned about signs of early Spring from others, my own observations and research:
- There is a higher likelihood of seasonal frosts that kill budding fruit and all manner of trees.
- The insects hatch early. This complicates the food chain when, for instance, the birds hatch and their insect food is not available to them. Fewer creatures live, which complicates the availability of food for the entire food chain.
- Butterflies suffer. They needed to have reserved more energy to make it through the summer.
- There is less water available for all living things, since rising temperatures melt available snow sooner; ceasing the cycle. This includes detriment to crops such as wine grapes.
- Grazing land animals eat grasses before the plants are at their proper stage of growth. This kills the grasses that are supposed to grow all year long, and feeding grazing animals becomes a costly challenge.
I am mindful of the many reasons that are considered causes of climate change. I see fossil fuels remaining on the stage of USA commerce. I see airplanes criss-crossing over the skies of northern Arizona, nearly each day; dumping loads of unknown “fog” onto the high-altitude valleys below. I see strangely beautiful sunsets in deep hues, surrounded by cloud formations that are unnaturally otherworldly.
And now, I see wild Spring grasses and budding fruit trees. The gentle scents of plants coming back to life lure me outside more often. Perfectly soothing breezes make laying on the rooftop in the early afternoon a must. Insects and birds are filling the skies with their extraordinary colors, sounds, and songs…
My heart can still trust the willows that are already leafy green, but does not trust the force behind its conjured growth. My eagerness to walk amongst Springtime does not outweigh my concern and disdain of the eagerness of this alien season. I can see now that this is to be a terribly destructive, albeit, beautiful cycle. It was less than four months ago that I wrote a poem in honor of Fall, and its falling leaves. Feeling a deep concern in my body, I long for gobs of natural nature. Now, where can I go to find it? It appears that it has all been taken, or hidden, or ruined. I hear that it may no longer exist in the places that are accessible to me.