Spring

A miniature bulb like Chionadaxa lucilae makes a sure-to-please gift in spring.

-Sunset Western Garden

I don’t know about you, but for me a warm and bursting spring is really something to scream about. I liken the special feeling of spring with the special feeling my friend Zach gets when he thinks of light travel. Quote, “When I think about light traveling I almost get goose-bumps or a special feeling.” When I think about the cherry blossoms pregnant with pink bundles of glittering petal yummies, I get goose-bumps the size of golf balls. I admit that I even get turned on a little. If ever I am walking down a cobblestone lane flanked by Ceanothus I just take off my clothes and start licking people. When I get a big whiff of jasmine, the ever modest plants whose understated baby white flowers emit a real grade A fragrance, I twirl really fast until I throw up.

Oh, to be swallowed by Sweet Asylum when the sun’s warmth has injected the womb like air of peace into your veins. The glories of spring! Every minute feels like the earth is waking up over and over again, stretching her arms of Evergreen Candytuft towards you, inviting you to fool around.

Oak trees are always there to comfort you. They reach out and offer their hard shoulder to lean on. Go ahead and take it. Just be careful, some trees have sap, and you don’t want to roll up to the office from your lunch break with tousled hair covered in sap. Someone might ask, “Adrienne you’re sticky black. It looks like you just got in a fight with someone with a maple syrup weapon. What happened?” only to answer, “I was being swallowed by Sweet Asylum and comforted by Mother Oak near the dumpsters behind the commissary.” They might cock their brow and tell your co-workers that you play in bushes on your lunch break. Then people might talk. They might start to call you “crazy” behind your back. Your boss, if he/she hears word of it, might begin to question your competence. But if you are really smart then this reasoning for holding back from nature did not fool you. Who cares if they call you crazy! Those who honor mother earth most enthusiastically are better people anyways. So go roll around in the poppies and let the pollen lick your black suit. Join the bees as the aroma of succulent Narcissus whispers sweet nothings into their pores. And then you can tell those square mother fuckers in the office that on your lunch break you were licentiously licked by spring. Sassafras had his tongue all up your thighs. Hyacinths made you drunk as Dionysus on an odor so syrupy you chewed the air and gulped down every particle emanating from the innards of those bunches of thick creamy purple petals while those idiots were at Quizno’s.

Let Pacha Mama germinate your spirit! Boo-ya-shaka!!!