Shouldn’t we all feel younger in May?
Shouldn’t this, the prettiest month of the year, erase worry lines from our faces and gift us with smiles?
The spectre of frost no longer lurks all around the white roses. They drape over my window like an extravagant strand of pearls, illuminated at midnight by a creamy May moon that spreads silver shadows over the lime green of new moss.
Shouldn’t we all be amazed?
After such a harsh winter, a company of foxgloves now stands tall in the garden, the most colourful totems of Spring. The morning air, sweetly redolent with the smell of wild azalea, is carried along by gentle winds that bear no resemblance to their raucous cousins of March. They are welcomed in through open windows, softly blowing the curtains into the quiet rooms, playing with the fur on the white dog’s head.
Shouldn’t we all be grateful?
The woolens are all packed away now, the linen is pressed and crisp. There are sunhats lining the hallway and the first white gardenia blossom sits by the bed. While stretched out before us, like a river of gold, are all the sun-kissed days of summer, as far as my blue eye can see.
Shouldn’t we all be happy?
Shouldn’t we follow the traditions of old and place bouquets of spring flowers on the doors of our friends? Shouldn’t we wind beribboned garlands around a tall wooden Maypole in the center of town?
Shouldn’t we dance?
Wash our faces in the morning dew?
It is May.
Shouldn’t we all feel younger?
Painting above by Honor Appleton