When A Young Man's Fancy Turns to Love

There is something that takes to the air when spring foliage, the real deal, erupts with life. It comes with that decisive turn in the temperature. Comforted with the certainty that the season has really and truly arrived, the trees and bulbs and seedlings that have muddled through the bleak winter throw away their protective cocoons which shield them from the indifferent elements and strut their finery. That happened this week. Definitive, showy and wanton, trees erupted with broad swaths of voluptuous pinks and lavenders and white. Showing their flowered gowns is not good enough; they have to dabble intoxicating hues of scent. The combination does something to a mere mortal.

I was working in the City today and had an appointment at lunch. On my return to the office, I noticed my pace slowed. The sun, that fiery Scheherazade, is so engaging that I can't bear to leave its company and return to the dark confines of the office. I decided to briefly detour to the nearby dog park, if only to enjoy the sights of the local hounds socializing on such a fine spring day. And well, since I'm already there, maybe I'll sit a spell and enjoy my yogurt.

From the moment I entered the park, I felt as if I had entered a new dimension. The shade trees were starting to display the broad expanse of their leafy boughs. The blooming trees were thick with clusters of erupting buds and heady with scent. Banks of spring bulbs were in full display: multi-colored daffodils, intoxicating hyacinths, fat long stemmed tulips. Stretches of grass were suddenly brightly green and inviting. A gentle breeze wafted along, sending little flurries of petals from the trees down across the path. It was sublime.

The chemistry of this poetic scene seemed to ignite the park's visitors for I noticed the dead eye expression that pedestrians often wearily exchange in the winter months was now replaced with half smiles, flirtatious glances and in the case of an older man who passed me as I ambled along, a wink. I winked back.

The mood was infectious. There was a lot of butt sniffing in the dog park (among the dogs). Couples lounged on the inviting grass exchanging embraces and long looks. It seemed everyone was cruising in the dog park, looking at the people around them with new eyes, but in the most innocent fashion you can imagine. Like the trees and patient ground plants, we too had weathered the petrified winter and now wanted to shed the inhibitions of the former season. I suppose this is the closest form of rebirth we humans can enjoy.

It was hard to go back to work.