THE LOST SPRING

Words & Photos by Phil Gaines

Each spring I watch and wait with anticipation for the first signs that winter has had enough and is ready to slowly surrender the season of cold and gray to that of warmth and color. One of the first signs is with South Carolina’s state flower as it slowly makes its way from the lowcountry to the Blue Ridge mountains, dotting the landscape and roads with yellow and greens in what seems to be in every treetop. The yellow jessamine, also called Carolina jessamine (Gelsemium sempervirens), became our official state flower in March of 1924. The funnel-shaped yellow blossom boastfully announces that spring is here. This spring the jessamine did not disappoint, nor did the Oconee Bells (Shortia galacifolia), usually the first of the wildflowers to bloom it precedes the more showy and larger flowers to come. The “bells,” a rare and unique flower found in gorges or ravines near a stream or creek bed in the mountains of the Carolinas while small are grand in their beauty. The bell shape and creamywhite flowers with their dark green glossy leaves stand out in the winter undergrowth and appear to ring the announcement that spring is here. This spring was no different, the jessamine bloomed right on cue, then a quick trip to Devils Fork State Park and the South Carolina Botanical Gardens at Clemson University to see the bells, they didn’t disappoint. Spring fever was in the air, the warm breezes and pollen left no doubt. Plans of hikes and adventures to see spring wildflowers, experience a sunrise and to connect with friends and family was at the top of my to do list. Then the unimaginable happen…letters followed by two numbers that meant nothing last spring now occupied our televisions, our newsfeeds and our lives. COVID-19, a coronavirus that would change our lives, our world and have us rethinking the spring of 2020. I would miss spring wildflower season, not to mention March Madness, the Masters, baseball, hugs and handshakes. Spring was lost.

Maybe. Spring is the season of new beginnings, that’s why wildflower season is such a part of spring for me. The wildflowers appear from nowhere, through the brown and dry brittle leaves of winter their brilliant colors, unusual shapes and aromatic fragrances reveal a new season and a feeling of hope. Spring and hope are intertwined, much like the yellow jessamine that cling to the trees announcing this new season. Spring is just what we needed, and we lost it. During this crisis we have been reminded of the things we miss, things that too often we overlooked just a few months ago. Social gatherings, hugs and handshakes and the freedom to hike a trail or walk on the beach. To take the perfect picture of a wildflower, a sunrise or selfie with family and friends. With the reality of a lost spring I’ve decided to make the most of it. So, I took my camera and went outside. Not far, just the backyard and the neighborhood. What I observed was that spring wasn’t lost at all, dogwoods are blooming right on schedule. Even the birds know its spring as a flash of red catches my eye as a male cardinal darts through the trees anxious to catch the eye of his female friend. Her pale brown colors are a dull contrast to the bright red of the male, yet the distinctive crest, same black face and red-orange bill let me know they’re a match made in heaven. They land and their flutelike voices rich and memorable as its rings through the neighborhood. It is spring, spring is not lost, just different.

Dr. Seuss once said that “sometimes you will never know the true value of a moment until it becomes a memory.” I went to look for some memories, photos of past spring wildflower walks, a treasure-trove of memories and moments etched in time. Experiencing pictures taken before the world changed would serve as a reminder of what I already knew, spring is beautiful. That its nature’s announcement of new beginnings, new opportunities, and a reminder that hope is a verb and so is spring. Recent studies show that while pictures do indeed capture the beauty of place, that they also capture memories of the people with whom you spent those moments with. Social distancing has really impacted how we experience nature and the outdoors. Not just during the “lost spring” but how we’ll experience it in the future when things return to “normal.” My guess is we’ll make sure we experience spring next year, with a camera and with people. We’ll capture those moments and turn them into memories that we’ll cherish forever. That we’ll wake up early just once to catch a sunrise awaken the darkness of the Atlantic and paint a sky that unimaginable. That we’ll find the time to see and capture the wildflowers of summer, Indian blanket, fire pinks, coneflowers and goldenrod to name a few. We be sure to mark on the calendar that in June the rocky shoals spider lilies bloom on the Catawba River, that a sunset at Sassafras Mountain is something special regardless of the time of year. And that fall’s colors last longer in the south than anywhere else.

Maybe the spring wasn’t lost at all, in fact the trilliums, blood root, primrose violets, monarch butterflys arrived for spring like they always did. We did too, just a little different than the way we did in the past and we’re leaving the spring of 2020 a little different as well. The lost spring of 2020 may have just reminded us that time and opportunities to turn moments into memories are limited. To make every day count, to never take for granted a social gathering again to never miss spring.

I can’t wait for summer, for fall, even winter and then the spring of 2021! For now, I’m pretty excited about tomorrow!