Scarlett Street 1945 - Is Our Weather Getting Worse? TV - Margaret Atwood - John Muir - William Shakespeare - Catullus - Noel Coward - Leo Tolstoy - Ernest Hemingway - A A Milne - Percy Bysshe Shelley - e e cummings - Anton Chekhov - Charlotte Bronte - Robert Burns - Thomas Gray - John Milton - Charles Dickens - Lynne Reid Banks - A Year on Planet Earth TV -
There’s nothing like the smell of Spring. Scarlett Street 1945 starring Edward G Robinson & Joan Bennett & Dan Duryea & Margaret Lindsay & Jess Barker & Rosalind Ivan & Arthur Loft & Charles Kemper & Russell Hicks & Samuel S Hinds et al, director Fritz Lang, Chris
Our driest Spring in a hundred years. Is Our Weather Getting Worse? Channel 4 2013
In the Spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt. Margaret Atwood
Spring work is going on with joyful enthusiasm. John Muir, The Wilderness World of John Muir
O rash false heat, wrapped in repentant cold,
Thy hasty spring still blasts and ne’er grows old! William Shakespeare, The Rape of Lucrece, 48-49
Now Spring restores balmy warmth. Catullus
I’ll see you again,
Whenever spring breaks through again. Noel Coward, I’ll See You Again, 1929
Spring is the time of plans and projects. Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
With so many trees in the city, you could see the spring coming each day until a night of warm wind would bring it suddenly in one morning. Sometimes the heavy cold rains would beat it back so that it would seem that it would never come and that you were losing a season out of your life. This was the only truly sad time in Paris because it was unnatural. You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person had died for no reason.
In those days, though, the spring always came finally but it was frightening that it had nearly failed. Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast p27
When spring came, even the false spring, there were no problems except where to be happiest. The only thing that could spoil a day was people and if you could keep from making engagements, each day had no limits. People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself. ibid. p28
he turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbour:
‘Winter is dead.’ A A Milne, When We Were Very Young
O Wild West Wind, though breath of Autumn’s being,
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing ...
Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,
Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams ...
The triumph of the prophecy! O, Wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind. Percy Bysshe Shelley 1792-1822, Ode to the West Wind
And the Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth’s dark breast
Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest. Percy Bysshe Shelley
O Spring, of hope and love and youth and gladness
Wind-wingèd emblem! brightest, best and fairest!
Whence comest thou, when, with dark Winter’s sadness
The tears that fade in sunny smiles thou sharest?
Sister of joy! thou art the child who wearest
Thy mother's dying smile, tender and sweet;
Thy mother Autumn, for whose grave thou bearest
Fresh flowers, and beams like flowers, with gentle feet,
Disturbing not the leaves which are her winding sheet. Percy Bysshe Shelley, The Revolt of Islam
sweet spring is your
time is my time is our
time for springtime is lovetime
and viva sweet love. e e cummings
The snow has not yet left the earth, but spring is already asking to enter your heart. If you have ever recovered from a serious illness, you will be familiar with the blessed state when you are in a delicious state of anticipation, and are liable to smile without any obvious reason. Evidently that is what nature is experiencing just now. The ground is cold, mud and snow squelches under foot, but how cheerful, gentle and inviting everything is! The air is so clear and transparent that if you were to climb to the top of the pigeon loft or the bell tower, you feel you might actually see the whole universe from end to end. The sun is shining brightly, and its playful, beaming rays are bathing in the puddles along with the sparrows. The river is swelling and darkening; it has already woken up and very soon will begin to roar. The trees are bare, but they are already living and breathing. Anton Chekhov, The Exclamation Mark
Spring drew on ... and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps. Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o’ daisies white
Out o’er the grassy lea. Robert Burns, Lament of Mary Queen of Scots
Lo! where the rosy bosom'd Hours
Fair Venus' train appear,
Disclose the long-expecting flowers,
And wake the purple year. Thomas Gray, Ode to Spring
Awake! the morning shines, and the fresh field
Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring
Our tended plants, how blows the citron grove,
What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed,
How nature paints her colours, how the bee
Sits on the bloom, extracting liquid sweet. John Milton, Paradise Lost V:20
It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. Charles Dickens, Great Expectations
The Spring can be more painful than any other time of the year. Summer is lazy and indifferent. Autumn is demanding and invigorating. Winter is numb and self-contained, but Spring has none of the palliatives. Every emotional nerve is close to the surface. Every sound and sight, every touch of the air is a summons to feel, to open your doors, to let life possess you and do what it likes with you. Lynne Reid Banks, The L-Shaped Room
But the beginning of March we in the north are turning towards the north. And winter snow begins to melt. A Year on Planet Earth II: Spring
East Africa: The Great Migration won’t return until summer. ibid.