The Scent of Spring

Winter is gone and Spring is finally here. How do I know? The smell.

Winter smells sharp, with little needles of cold pricking your nose when you stick your head outside. It’s a clean smell, brought by the pristine snow. But nice as it may be, it’s a flat, lifeless smell, with the earth in deep hibernation. So far, even when we’ve had a nice day, it’s all smelled the same. This year Winter has hung on with a vengeance.

But today, as I cracked my window in the rosy morning light, it smelled different. Like Spring.

Spring’s smell is fresh and pretty. It smells like dirt and grass and flowers and dew and sunshine. It makes you want to sing and laugh just for the sheer joy of the world waking up again. The birds and little animals smell it too, and the birds celebrate by twittering cheerily all day, while the squirrels whip around the trees in a joyful (if wild) game of tag.

The trees smell it too. Like impossibly old nobles and gentlewomen of some court long gone, you can almost feel them stir out of their cold-induced sleep and drink in the sunshine. Little buds, lying dormant all winter, become plump and rosy, ready to pop.

It smells like Spring.


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