I dislike spring for its assault on my nose. Every year, from March 15th to June 15th, I struggle through every day with a tissue box attached to my hip. I look like a rare Rudolph among the rest of my reindeer acquaintances, my nose bright red enough to act as a lighthouse to guide ships through the darkness of night. Of course, spring has the pretty flowers, the nice weather, and even I myself am a spring baby. However, my one greatest adversary, my sworn enemy, the dreaded pollen arrives with spring. For this reason, I can never bring myself to love the season.
— Gwen-Zoe, San Jose, CA
For many people, spring signifies hope and renewal. Buds begin to open, trees begin showing new leaves. Spring is perhaps the most poetic season of them all. Besides the poetic quality of Spring it has many more practical pleasing qualities. Spring is the perfect temperature, not too hot and not too cold, and it is the peak time to experience the natural world. Spring may not be host to the same ridiculous amount of holidays as winter but Easter, and the gifts and break from school that comes with it, is always appreciated.
— Emma, Julia R. Masterman
I keep having to tell myself that winter will be over before I know it, forgetting that I live in Minnesota, where we have winter for the majority of the year … After a while, it eventually gets old, and I am faced with my reality: I must get out of bed and live through another gloomy and cold day. Day after day, the cycle repeats itself, and despite the feelings of joy from childhood nostalgia, I hope for the arrival of spring. I know that as spring slowly arrives, the hushed, frigid, and snowy winter mornings in Minnesota will transform into times of joy, filled with the fluttering of butterflies, the smell of flowers, and the chirping of early morning birds.
— Mirella, East Ridge High School, Woodbury, MN
The equinox turns from darkness to light, gloom to the sun. Spring is underestimated, no one sees the joy it brings, not even when the cherry blossoms bloom or the squirrels come out from hibernation. We take spring for granted, it’s when nature returns from rest. Yes, it is annual but it only lasts a short while. I love when the weather is perfect, the air is moist, and life comes back. Spring is when I was born, it’s when nature was born, and nature will not always last. I can’t bear to see the huge maple tree from my window barren, just a long stick of brown. Now, the tree has invited red sparrows to my window, owls at night, and bright vines trailing up its trunk. Spring brings rain, I love rain. I love the comforting sound of drippings, and I love the sweet smell spreading through the atmosphere.
— Arianna, Julia R. Masterman School, PA
