Spring is for remembering

Spring is for remembering when a world chalky with prison pallor, snapping its winter chains, became part of a new scene bright with green. Spring is for remembering that there was a singsong chant we knew with apple seeds spelling who loved who, and a dandelion's white fuzz blown off meant, hurry home without delay, your mother wants you right away. Spring is for remembering how we devised our folklore too -- wore sometines green where it was seen, sometimes a blade of grass or leaf tucked in a pocket, belt or sock to signify, identify the second graders who complied as of one totem or one tribe. Spring is for remembering that belief is almost everything and that no matter what the season, we carry our springs and summers with us like Edward Hopper painting light without stirring from his studio to see its actuality -- for him, its factuality unreeling in his memory.