(This column was orginaly published April 2)
You may not have had time to notice, but the landscape has taken a sudden shift from dull and near monochromatic to Technicolor and then some. Of course, if you’ve been watching closely this should be no surprise — buds have been swelling and it was just a matter of time before they exploded in color.
Botanist Misty Buchanan, who hails from the mountains, did extensive research in the coastal plains and now lives here in the land between the two, recently put it succinctly:
“The mountains and the coast have their seasons,†she said, “but when it comes to spring, the Piedmont rocks.â€
A recent stroll through campus was a reminder that just about every living creature has been waiting for the vernal rush of warm weather. There were hundreds of young people sprawled all over Polk Place with books and laptops. In a corner near the Wilson Library, a philosophy class was holding an open-air debate on the existence of the almighty; at midpoint along the mall, students in a writing class sat in a circle in the grass, dissecting their works. Not far away, near the little garden planted in honor of Paul and Shelia Wellstone, a couple of lunch breakers calmly knitted.
And all through campus, the usual rush-rush was broken by the sheer beauty of the spring. Even those walking head down, moving quickly to the next class, were compelled to pause a moment to gawk at the explosive color of blossoming trees and shrubs along the brickways.
Almost all of us are a bit preoccupied these days with the outcome of this weekend’s basketball contests. But I doubt anyone is unaware of the natural fireworks that await once the season comes to a close.
In this issue, we celebrate a few of the places and events that the adventurous can enjoy right here or just a short jaunt away. — Kirk Ross