The Southland in the Springtime

I am reminded of the song of the same title by the Indigo Girls that proclaims that:

There is something about the southland in the springtime
Where the waters flow with confidence and reason
Though I miss her when I'm gone it won't ever be too long
Til' I'm home again to spend my favorite season
When God made me born a yankee He was teasin'
There's no place like home and none more pleasin'
Than the southland in the springtime

This is hands down the best time of year here in Augusta, Georgia. There is a reason that the Master's golf tournament is played at this time every year. So many Augustans leave town during our almost mandatory Spring Break due to the enormity of the crowds that drift into town and the traffic they create. But, I think they miss out on the height of the beauty of this place. You have to take advantage of the beauty. Unlike the striking, almost screaming beauty of the majestic Rocky mountains, the south has a loveliness that is more subtle, more like an impressionistic painting. The edges are blurred and the variety of colors move almost imperceptively from pale yellows and pinks to bright magentas and purples. I'm learning the names of the flowering trees that I took for granted all the years of my youth when I could only think about my own dramatic monologue of existence.The sumac and the wisteria vines now compete for my notice. It is pure tragedy that my schoolroom has no windows to look upon the celery greens change to the bright summer shades. It is important to stop and appreciate this time, as soon it will change to the muggy heat of deep summer. A time when I hope to once again appreciate the grandeur of the Rockies and perhaps the great Northwest. Love and blessings from the southland in the springtime.