Why Spring is the Best Season (a short story)—

Hey everyone! This is only the 2nd short story I've ever written, so please bear with me :) It's a quick one I wrote last week, in order to cheer myself up about the Springtime and the constant rain. I hope you enjoy it! If you do like it, feel free to hit the "like" button, drop a comment, or share it on Facebook/Instagram! As always, thanks so much for reading.

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He was telling her about how lovely Spring is, and how it had always been his favourite of the four seasons. She furrowed her eyebrows and put her small fist under her chin, dark brown eyes peering up at him in his armchair. His silver hair was sparkling in the flickering light of the fire.

“I guess so,” she said. “But why do you like Spring so much, Grandpa? It’s kind of…..sad. So dark and rainy. Too many yucky earthworms everywhere.” She pinched her nose and stuck her tongue out momentarily.

His eyes sparkled and his face lit up.

“Spring,” he said in a soft voice as he slowly waved his arm through the air, “It’s the most magical time of year. All of nature is so excited. You can feel it in the thick, damp air. Even the earthworms come out to see, because they can’t wait any longer! Each morning, the sun rises earlier. The days become longer— as if the sky is promising every new day will hold one more adventure than the last.”

He stood up now and started to pace across the room, eyes gently closed, humming a melodic tune to himself. His leather slippers slid soundlessly over the wooden floor.

“The majestic birds are returning from their winter homes. Don’t you like to sing with the birds?” He didn’t wait for a response.

“All the seeds buried in the ground are listening, eagerly waiting for their moment to break through. All winter long, they have to be quiet. They must wait their turn.” He held one finger up against his lips.

“Hmm that’s true,” she mused, leaning back on the couch. He came and sat down beside her, and she tilted her head onto his shoulder. “But what’s the point? The flowers could just grow all year round. It would be a lot less depressing. And besides, mom used to hate the Spring.”

“Ahhh, but this is the point, my dear. Winter helps our perspective.”

She shook her head slowly. Again, the furrowed brow.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” he replied. He gazed deeply into the dancing firelight, as if trying to retrieve an old memory from the very back of his mind. Each corner of his mouth was slightly turned upward, almost too faint to notice.

“You know who the flowers in my garden remind me of, when their colours start to bloom? Beautiful and carefree, bright, hopeful, promising……”

“Who?” She rubbed her eyes and yawned. The dim light and warmth was suddenly making her very sleepy.

He turned his head toward her and put his arm around her. Eyes crinkling, the shadow of his face finally broke into a smile.

“Well, they used to remind me of your mother. And now, they also remind me of you.”

She smiled softly back at him, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.