I love the month of May. I love October more, hence the headline, but May comes in at a close second.
Why, you ask?
First of all, I adore the weather this time of year ... well, most years, anyway. Now, some residents of northwest Iowa might argue this notion, especially after yesterday’s snowstorm blew through.
While the worst of the winter weather (I actually laughed at KCCI’s website yesterday as I read through the various “winter weather advisories) I still had to peek out my window this morning to reinforce the idea that no, sandals would probably be a bad choice of footwear today.
Part of this doesn’t surprise me, though. My mom used to tell me how she always wanted snow on her wedding day, but as my parents planned a wedding for the spring she was convinced it wouldn’t happen. Well, lo and behold, on April 8, 1989, guess what it did in Sheldon? It snowed.
Despite the constant laments that “there’s no such thing as spring in Iowa” from the newsroom, there’s this weird positivity where I know things will get better. Tulips and daffodils will finally bloom, men will mow their lawns wearing perhaps less clothing than they should, and little league teams will begin taking the field on Tuesday nights and Saturday mornings.
They say that scent in the sense more directly linked to memories (if I recall, I’m pretty sure I first heard that on a commercial for Axe body wash), and I have to admit it’s true in my case. Every once in awhile I’ll catch a whiff of iced tea, which reminds me of my dad, or lilacs, which remind me of my mom and bushes she tends on the south side of our house. The smell outside in May is, to me, unmistakleable.
Something about the smell of freshly green grass and new buds on the trees paired with those aforementioned groomed lawns takes me right back to Chet Waggoner Little League, Walker Park and the run-down diamond outside St. Joe High School. Spring meant softball, and May meant finally trading in layers of Under Armour for farmer’s tans and freckles.
After 14 years of playing the sport, it’s hard not to miss the little nuances -- dirty knees, sunflower seeds and the grip of the seams as you launch a screwball home.
Lastly, it really doesn’t hurt that my birthday falls in May. While it’s still weeks away, you can bet my inbox was flooded with free “Happy Birthday!” offers yesterday morning from the likes of Noodles & Company and Sephora. This month is certainly no October (I’ll explain that another time), but I can’t complain.