It's almost spring but not quite.

 It's almost spring but not quite. 

We are now approaching the first day of springtime. Have you a spring in your step or you still finding your feet? The ides of March, with all its blustery winds and howling storms, are now subsiding into some far off land that winter used to know. For exactly a year now, a violent virus has swept the world, transforming it, breaking it in half and then leaving the finality of death behind it. 

Recently you've found yourself drawn to poetic outbursts and wish that life had a poetic symmetry rather than the rough edges and painful repercussions that could last for quite a while. Still, here we are a couple of days before spring takes its floral pageantry into another time and place. The seasons have come and gone since the dawn of the calamitous coronavirus and the shock waves can still be felt. But perhaps there is a concluding chapter to this hugely dramatic episode in our lives. And maybe it's made us stronger and mentally harder, capable of withstanding anything that may come our way. 

Spring of course is that rebirth, that renaissance where everything looks rosier, healthier, prettier, brighter, smarter, boding well for the future since the past was pockmarked with all kinds of burnt out shells, damaged souls, sluggish minds and a whole host of aches, strains and pains. Spring is that recovery period before summer when batteries are recharged, mindsets are adjusted accordingly and you just want to rush out of your front door and hug your brother, sister, aunt, cousin or uncle. Goodness me when was the last time you saw them?

Essentially spring is a celebration of nature, when burgeoning gardens with tulips, daffodils, crocuses and daisies always seem to know when the time is right. It's that transitional period when all the ailments of winter can be shrugged off almost miraculously with a seven mile, invigorating walk with your dog and a 20 mile run through a whole succession of suburbs. You may be tempted to follow that up with another sequence of roads, country lanes, forests and a couple of laps around the park just for good measure. 

This has undoubtedly been one of the most historically challenging periods of our lives, a gruelling assault course of restrictions, restraints, an abundance of new laws, breakdowns, lockdowns, sound and fury, disbelief and shock. Then there were the Thursday evenings of our lives tinged with syrupy sentimentality, heartfelt clapping and a desperate plea for the virus to just come to an end. But then it went on and on until there seemed no turning back. We were stuck with it and that had to be the final word. 

And yet here we are poised to embrace spring a year later yet again hoping that what used to be never ever happens again to anybody. It should be the time of the year when the ducks, swans and geese greet the new season with a hospitable quacking sound that can be heard in every town, city and village. To be honest the sooner Covid 19 vanishes into some dark hole the better. It's outstayed its welcome and we'd rather you not come back at any point in the foreseeable future. 

We're done with the incessant breast beating, the arguments, the recriminations when things had hit rock bottom, the constant accusations levelled at misbehaving politicians who were determined to break the law they'd just implemented. We've had enough of those seemingly endless Press briefings at 10 Downing Street when Boris looked at Patrick and Patrick looked at Chris without ever knowing quite where the virus was going. So Boris shrugged his shoulders like a man who didn't see the accident and couldn't possibly comment. 

Still it'll be spring shortly and in Amsterdam the tulips should be blooming in profusion, although the canals have yet to welcome back their increasingly frustrated tourists because you just can't do boat trips at the moment. In the London parks of Hyde, Regents, St James's there should be an air of freedom, a sweet perfume of primrose, the merest suggestion that summer has started knocking on the door while the blackbirds and pigeons tuck  ravenously into another loaf of Mothers Pride bread. 

So ladies and gentlemen spring is in the air and none of us are entirely sure whether those cultural certainties such as the Grand National or the London Marathon will be allowed to go ahead. Thoughts normally turn to that annual University boat race but even rowing a simple boat seems to be fraught with risks and dangers. But fear not because spring has not been cancelled because Easter chocolate eggs and Pesach(passover) matzos are still available and even chocolate matzos are dirt cheap, a real bargain. Oh you can feel it in your bones. This year will happen. It has to and it will.