Every April, I want to say that spring is my favorite time of year, and then when fall comes I change my mind. I could never put my finger on why I couldn’t choose which I love most, but of course the answer is as simple as: I enjoy living in an environment that is saturated with color amidst air thick with the promise of change. The winters in Western Pa are desolate, grey, and bitter cold. I love the snow, but when it’s not snowy it can be depressing. I like the summers just fine, but they can be wretchedly hot and sticky.
But fall? The scent of decaying leaves and the brilliant display of red, yellow, orange? The mix and mingle of warm and crisply, cool air? Love. And the spring? With a slow wave of color blooming everyday, yellow to white to pink to spring green? The feeling of air on my bare arms and the soil and grass on my feet after months and months of only the tip of my nose exposed? Yes springtime, I love you! I am deeply and forever in love with you.
For the sake of appreciating fall and spring for their differences, I’ll not choose a favorite. I’ll just leave you with the first snapshots of spring in Pittsburgh.