Hope Springs. It’s Vernal.

“Seasonal affective disorder (SAD) is a mood disorder subset in which people who have normal mental health throughout most of the year exhibit depressive symptoms at the same time each year, most commonly in winter. Common symptoms include sleeping too much and having little to no energy, and overeating.” (Wikipedia)

What an apropos acronym. I confess – I’m a SAD sufferer, which makes me very despondent this time of year. And, after having looked at the forecast for the upcoming week, I’m particularly morose today, not even able to gin up the enthusiasm to watch Super Bowl Roman Numeral Whatever. It’s not like I haven’t seen this spectacle before – LIV times, to be precise. Passers gonna pass, receivers gonna receive, dancers gonna dance, singers gonna sing (which also means that someone’s going to butcher the national anthem), betters gonna bet and oddsmakers gonna odd.

As I look at the forecast, all I can see are clouds, rain, and gloom. And I’m sure that what is now predicted to be snow will turn out to be more rain, doom, and gloom. And of course the snow is forecast for Monday, leaving me to share Karen Carpenter’s sentiment: “Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.

I write this seated under the brightest artificial light in the house and try to avoid looking out the window at the gray of the day - hopeful that Punxsutawney Phil got it wrong and that soon I’ll be exultantly proclaiming:

Spring has sprung, the grass has riz. I wonder where the flowers iz.

But for now I can only lament:

I sit inside on this gray day depressed that spring’s so far away.

Perhaps you can “smell what I’m steppin’ in” and you’re weathering winter, yet anticipating longer, sunny days, April showers and May flowers. Or, you may deal with SADness yourself and could simply benefit from a word of encouragement.

I love spring. It’s my favorite season of the year. I love to watch the emergence of perennials, such as hostas, which push their bullets up through the ground and proceed to leaf out and then bloom. Other spring bloomers such as creeping phlox and astilbe will soon follow. They are a reminder that there is life after winter.

Indeed, the autumn joy sedum on the front porch has already made its annual debut.

Recently I’ve begun to see a few harbingers of spring. Just the other day several squadrons of robins flew in from the south, landed on the yard for a quick lunch break, and then were airborne again, headed north. The red maple in the side yard has already put out crimson buds, a reminder that it won’t be long until all the deciduous trees will soon start turning green again.

Meanwhile, the long winter nights grow increasingly shorter as we approach the vernal equinox. The time is drawing near to dig in the closet and retrieve all the accoutrements that attend warmer weather: shorts, swim suits, sun screen, picnic baskets, softball and glove, golf clubs, ad infinitum. (Which reminds me: I wonder where I put my frisbee?)

And just think: you’ll be able to pack away outerwear, hats, and all the layers of winter attire. But remember, if you’re packing away wool, don’t forget the mothballs.

So chin up, bunkie. Spring is slowly beginning to spring and soon the grass will have riz. (Which means mowing. See? I just can’t escape this funk.) It won’t be long until we’ll be able to venture outside without hats, gloves, and layering. And I don’t care if March comes roaring in like a hungry lion, as long as it also provides us some lamb-like days of gentle breezes and warmer weather.

Bring spring. I’m ready.