By Tim King

Special to the Leader

At this time of year, green is the new black – it’s the “got to have it” color. And this year, it’s not just about what is happening to our landscapes. You can’t flip through a magazine, visit a Web site, listen to the radio or watch TV without being exposed to “green” messages promoting more eco-friendly products and services.

I enjoy this part of the year because of its energy. When winter finally turns to spring, there seems to be a never ending supply of optimism and potential for good things to come. Life abounds in the sights, smells and sounds around us. Inspiration can be found no matter where you look, at least if you choose to see it.

Henry David Thoreau said “Only that day dawns to which we are awake.” Truly seeing something and merely looking at it are very different things.

Our eyes are designed to function as collectors of light. From that, we are able to notice changes in colors, shapes and detect movement. By contrast, I believe seeing occurs only when you take what you are looking at and apply something to it — a thought, belief or emotion. I’ll give you an example.

A few weeks ago, I spent some time looking for branches and twigs that had fallen from the trees over the winter. As I expected, the majority were oak and maple with a few pine boughs mixed in. I then collected them in a barrel to use as kindling for next year. The purpose on one level was obvious – look for downed branches, pick them up and put them in the barrel.

However, while I was doing this, I was also able to see my yard coming back to life around me. I was seeing spring arrive by feeling the warmth of the sun, watching the robins and squirrels playfully ramble between the trees and hearing the sounds of my neighbors working outside as well. 

Slowly but surely, green was making its way back into my life. I first noticed it several weeks ago as a barely perceptible greenish hue started to appear among the bare branches of trees off in the distance. Where barren, brown limbs had once cut through a cold, gray winter sky were now branches filled with the hope of tiny green buds creeping out into the sunlight. 

My second sighting of spring occurred while driving past the Scarborough Marsh. As the receding water was pulled out to sea with the tide, a wall of large stones making up the Eastern Trail pathway was once again revealed. Only now the wall was blanketed from top to bottom with a spectacular green algae. These same stones had previously been covered all winter long with a brown, dormant mat of these primitive plants. 

You know it’s been a long winter when you get fired up at the site of algae covered rocks.

Walking through my yard, I begin to pull away leaves that have become a found natural meeting place in the corners of my yard. I am always surprised at the amount of leaves left in my yard after the snow has melted away. After all, didn’t I spend countless hours raking, shredding and vacuuming leaves last fall? Somehow, they’ve multiplied.

If I didn’t know better, I would have thought that the few stragglers left behind last fall spent the winter having a grand old time frolicking away under a warm blanket of snow, only to have their newly expanded family exposed by the melting sunshine and separated once more by a rake.

By now, I’ve also planted a few additional spring bulbs and cut back all of the old, dead stalks from the perennial beacons in my garden. As I do so, I am greeted with the site of new green growth emerging up from the ground. In my head, I also picture the colorful annuals that I will soon introduce as summer guests to these hardy native residents. 

Yes, this is the season of “could be.” The potential of spring seems limitless and success is not only attainable, but almost expected. 

I can see it in the eyes of customers at the garden center or nursery. I have the same look myself. We all share visions of lush, all encompassing gardens full of color, fragrance and life. We imagine ourselves engulfed in this new, vibrant world full of sunshine, refreshing rains and peacefulness. All is right in the world.

Yes, this is a carefree time of the year. Dreams are large (I’m going to win a Blue Ribbon at the fair!), the smallest achievements are celebrated (Can you believe it warmed to 50 degrees and it hasn’t rained/snowed in three days!) while disappointments are minimized (Sure we got a snowstorm, but that’s the kind of snow that takes away the snow.) 

The real test of a gardener’s spirit, skill and perseverance comes much later when the ambition to weed, prune and care for our gardens is squelched by heat, humidity and mosquitoes. 

But for now, Carpe’ Diem! I’ll happily don a pair of green-colored glasses and dream of days when sunburns replace windburns and molehills replace frost heaves.

— Tim King is a freelance writer who sees the forest and the trees from his home in Scarborough. He can be reached at  sylvan.sauntering@gmail.com.