Oh, oh, wonderful spring and the walkin' is easy! Fish are splashin' and the poke greens are high! How Jack and I have lusted to see the splendor of redbud and dogwood bursting forth to make the Ozarks the most beautiful place in creation. World travelers will take an oath that nothing can compare with the hill country in the spring -- unless it is the hill country in the fall. Would be a toss-up is my guess.
Of course, there is always the possibility of a hard freeze to take the bloom off everything but let's not think about that.
One of the things I missed while I was living in the Deep South was the lack of lilacs blooming in the spring. They don't grow down there, something about needing extreme temperatures to mature, and since they are one of my favorite things on earth I made every effort to come back to the Ark-Mo area each year while they were in bloom.
It is my belief that heaven will smell like lilacs, and in all probability my grandmother, we call her Good Mama, will have been appointed as custodian for a good part of them. She had a "green thumb" (in the hill country that means a person who is able to make plants grow in rocks) and her lilac bushes in full bloom were a sight to behold.
My poet sister, Linda Cash Crase, wrote the following honoring our grandmother and gave me permission to share it with you.
Grandmother's LilacsGrandmother's lilacs are blooming again,Their fragrance drifts in on the breeze.The lilacs and springtime capture my heartAnd bring back such sweet memories.I can almost see her there in the hall,I can almost see her dear smile.Grandmother's lilacs are blooming again.They bring her back home for a while.