There's No Other Spring Like Michigan's

Are daffodils still blooming on the hill at Cranbrook Gardens?

Are trilliums appearing in Michigan woods?

Have the spring peepers begun their magic music?

There’s no spring like Michigan’s.

First, it’s shy. Shows up one day, promising warm weather and green grass, and hides the next, sometimes under snow. Buries itself in gray, cold mornings when you can see your breath, but ends in early summer with fragrant afternoons and blossoms everywhere.

Official last day of frost is May First, May Day.

For many years, I ordered a basket of spring flowers to be delivered to my mother in honor of May Day. My daughter Anne does the same for me now that Mom is gone. Our celebration of springtime.

Spring is made up of three distinct months—March, April, May. The spring equinox means that daytime hours increase until the summer solstice on June 21st. The tilt of the Earth to the Sun changes daylight hours and warmth, so that the season causes new plant growth to “spring forth,” as the poets say.

March threatens snow in the Heights. April produces cold mornings, some below freezing, but afternoons hint at melting and new grass, and heavy coats are traded for jackets.

By May, frosts are gone and flowers appear. Tulips, trilliums, dandelions, lilacs, apple and cherry blossoms—from late April through May.

Mushroom picking. My brother knew of patches at Bald Mountain and farther north, and became an expert at finding his favorite kinds.

Holland, Michigan puts on magnificent tulip displays.

Other places around the world share Michigan’s climate—the Japanese island of Hokkaido; Frankfort, Germany; Ireland, but only seven percent of the U.S. shares the climate around Detroit and the Heights, eight percent of the Ukraine, and five percent of Korea.

Our weather is unique due to the Great Lakes with their thunderstorms, snowstorms, wind and humidity levels, freezing winters and divine summers.

After a cold, lingering winter, spring is welcome. By May, winter has finally been overcome. Days may be rainy, nights chilly, but blooming and growth pops up in the natural world, in yards, gardens, and in the spirits of Michiganders.

I miss lilac season. Dandelions covering yards. Violets in the lawn. Tiger lilies along fences.

I miss the bright green of weeping willows and the sight of trilliums in the wooded ponds. The delicate scent of apple blossoms from the back yard.

Years ago, it was a spring tradition for me to visit Cranbrook Gardens and head for the grassy hill near the white pines, to wander with care through the daffodils, their annual appearance magical. I wonder if they still show up on that hill?

The more lilacs I picked, the better it was for the bushes in coming years, and it was a pleasure to fill vases and jars with their perfume. Fern fronds uncurled overnight. Robins filled the mornings and afternoons with their distinctive melodies.

I miss Michigan spring.

I miss springtime in the Heights.

I miss the song of the spring peepers in the Second Woods.

I miss the robin songs, the scent of lilacs, the sight of bright green grass and new leaves.

If I pause and close my eyes, I can almost be there again. Almost.

Wishing you a happy, fragrant spring.