A light exists in spring – by Joyce Elwood Smith
A light exists in spring
Not present on the year
At any other period
When March (August in the Southern hemisphere) is scarcely here …
Emily Dickinson, 1830-1886 renowned American poet.
The lifting of spirits, the joy of spring … how many poets, have waxed lyrical on this phenomenon, the miracle of new life, a bursting forth from bud or soil with joy and anticipation. Spring light is more than a shift from winter darkness, it brings a lightening of spirit and lightness of foot. Also bringing lighting and illumination, we see things differently, more clearly, we are renewed and rejuvenated. There is an excitement and hope that comes with spring, something that no other season has.
In my home town, hosts of daffodils will be raising their golden heads. Multitudes of them grow in Hagley Park, and along the grassy banks of the meandering Avon River, hopefully not spoiled by liquefaction. They will dance in an easterly breeze, under the English Beech and Oak. Bowing Japanese Cherries will be waiting demurely, along the avenues for their turn, and what a show theirs will be. Empty sites in the CBD may be sprouting clumps of jonquils or narcissi. Flower troughs in the Cashel Popup Container Mall will be ready, to burst with colour.
This is the third spring that I have missed the camellias and magnolias in my own garden. The frothy white plum and pear, the tutu pink of the peach blossoms, even the tulips planted in pots, broken or not, will soon be opening their buds. What were tiny tufted hints of green, visible on the roses, may by now be full blown leaves, and my Banksia rose will already be covered in buds eager to smother the pergola outside the dining room, in bridal splendour. Madam Alfred Carriére, spreading regally over another pergola, will be keeping herself for later. Penelope and Sea – foam on the opposite side of the patio will wait until it is warmer. Climbing up and over the balcony, Cecil Brunner will be readying for the right button-hole occasion. I am afraid he may have to be peeled out of the way for plastering and painting. The tenacious Ice-berg roses will be getting ready for their marathon flowering, from late spring until autumn, if they are not trampled to death over the next few weeks.
With the Christchurch re-build taking progressive steps at last there is a lightening of heart, an easing of burden. It will be in the air, along with the sound of scaffold erection, power drills, concrete trucks and black birds singing. The light at the end of a very long tunnel has at last grown brighter. Building contractors begin the repairs to my house next week, and oh yes, my heart is definitely lighter.
It is fitting that the Cancer Society should choose a bright yellow daffodil as the emblem for their annual fund- raising. Well known as ‘daffodil day’, a symbol of light and hope and new beginnings. It is one of the most important fundraising and awareness campaigns in New Zealand.
Two close relatives of mine have had breast cancer, one is currently having chemotherapy.
As a teenager she lost a limb to bone cancer, setting her on a path to her life’s work as a scientist in Cancer Research. Another young relative was diagnosed with a rare form of Leukaemia and Can-teen played a big part in her recovery. Everyone is touched by this disease, we all know someone. The dedicated and wide range of support information, and educational services provided by the Cancer Society, along with donated funding for scientific research into the causes and treatment of all types of cancer is vital. But they need help – something we can all give.
Friday 30th August is Daffodil Day.
Joyce Elwood-Smith
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