The purple lilacs are starting to open today. The white ones have been out for a while. They always bloom first but they are more delicate; they tend to fry and turn brown as soon as the weather gets too warm. The white lilacs mean the end of spring, but the purple lilacs begin the transition into summer. There is always a glorious few days when both white and purple are fully awake, a few days when you can feel everything shifting around you.
We are starting to get into those days, now. Crickets are chirping daily, and frogs peeping nightly. The swallows are swooping with a certain kind of playful joy, chattering away and chasing each other with youthful delight. The starlings are croaking and the sparrows are building their nests and taking up far too much space. The chickadees are quick and confident, zipping to and from the bird feeder every few seconds. The sounds of lawn mowers and lazy motorcycles are growing more common by the day. The leaves are still not the deep green of summer, but they are large enough to rustle softly against each other in the wind.
Summer is approaching, and the purple lilacs are still half asleep—rubbing their eyes and yawning in the fresh and eager sun—they're waking up to a brand new world, just like they do every year.
YOU ARE READING
Counting Down the Days
PoetryIt is the summer before I leave for college, and I am staring into the empty abyss before me, wondering what to do with my life. In this collection, I am challenging myself to write something every day (now adjusted to every 2-3 days). I may write p...
