Spring Fever is a commonly recognized malady that manifests itself differently in each of us.
It usually occurs somewhere near the first day we can go outside without a coat. A balmy sort of day with sparkling sunshine and a gentle breeze.
It’s the kind of a day when students want to skip school, workers want to call in sick. Homeowners want to start planting flowers, though it’s much too soon.
It’s the kind of day when people want to fly a kite, stroll along the beach, play ball in the park, buy a new hat.
The main thing about Spring Fever is that it makes us vaguely restless. We want to be doing something different. We sense that we’re missing out (on some unnamed something). We want to play hooky from real life. Maybe sail around the world or learn to fly an airplane.
I’m not sure how people in the south celebrate Spring Fever. There isn’t that much difference in the weather. I was in northern Florida when spring arrived this year, and I didn’t even know it. One day I noticed that there were azalea bushes blooming everywhere. Then I heard a couple of morning TV hosts saying something about winter being over. What winter? I wondered. I guess I missed it. Must have slept in that day.
For me, I usually take long rides and short walks, exploring the countryside, discovering new places–taking in the smells and soaking up the gentle warmth.
I always have a strong urge to run away. This is accompanied by a nagging, guilty feeling that I should be cleaning out closets and beating mattresses–but so far I’ve always summoned the strength to fight off such sickness.
I go play somewhere instead.
(c) Ruth Minshull 2014