I think of spring in terms of daylight more than snow. This morning was the first morning of this year when I saw my shadow while bicycling to work.
Sunrise at eight and clear skies meant that I arrived at work in full daylight. Sunset is at four, so going home I rode my bike in darkness. Spring for me will come when I also come home in full daylight. Summer is when I go to bed in daylight and rise in daylight.
Still, I would love to have some winter before it’s spring.
even before dawn —
with its tangerine brushstrokes
sun bids me welcome
Franks asks us to write haibun on the topic of spring at dVerse. I still think it should be winter, but temperatures are way too high for the season.
Also linking to Eartweal were the topic is renewal
—
February 3, 2020
Björn Rudbergs writings 
of course you have much more extreme changes in day length than we do. I guess it gets very dark when there’s no snow to bounce the light around. We seem to have skipped a proper winter this year – just endless endless rain and mud. i love your haiku – full of light and hope.
Congratulations on full dawn on your ride in. It’s an important change.
I watch the slowly increasing daylight with such joy, too. Good for you cycling to work!!!!!
I too would love some winter before spring, although the birds sung spring today and I saw lots of buds and some Galanthus nivalis
(Snödroppar).
I admire the steadfastness of those who live in the land of long nights, and can well imagine your appreciation of sunlight. Your haiku is inspired.
I spent a few weeks in Alaska in summer and marveled at the midnight sun. At 2am, the sun dipped and sprung right back up.
I am happy to see the sunlight later in the day. I will be happy if we have more warner temps than snow temps, but I think it is not possible in February.
those tangerine brush strokes – I cannot imagine living in such long daylight hours. I am grateful for the light and the darkness equally. Such a beautifl haiku.
I recall my family’s Alaska cruise one summer. I woke up around two in the morning while we were in Anchorage. I opened the light-darkening shades in our room to see the only dark sky I would see the entire trip. I love how you measure Spring by the light you experience in this one, Bjorn!
The photo goes so well with your haibun. The tangerine brushstrokes is a great image.
I like your citrus haiku 🙂
In winter we get up at night…
There is so much beauty around us everyday we must be careful not to take it for granted. One of the most reassuring times of the day is to witness that rising sun. Beautifully written Bjorn.
I understand your way of thinking, Björn. The constant winter darkness is so oppressive. I’ve always felt depressed getting up for school or work in the dark and coming home in the dark. No wonder people suffer from SAD. Although I can’t bear heat, I love the light of long summer nights. I love the ‘tangerine brushstrokes’.
Björn, I love your thoughts about the light and the seasons.
The long dark hours in winter and the light in summer. Hardly any dark
at all. Midsummer in Sweden is magic.
Miriam
We are creatures of photosynthesis more than we imagine … just deprive us of light and observe the darkened soul … Great observations here of the slow turns toward and away from light in the dailiness we are. The closing haiku is fine. – Brendan
It’s all about light, the sun. Long may he reign over us…
tangerine brushstrokes is such a sweet line, just saying it makes me feel warm inside. I read the second para of haibun and noticed day the start of each line after the first, that arrangement was very appealing to all the senses.
Spring is a ritual that roots us to the earth as much as iy is a season, the very essence of renewal, of life and persistence. Your description of your transitional hours and all they give and take from you is insightful and effective.
Oh yes….the land that has almost a full 24 hours of darkness and the same for daylight…where the winter and summer solstice have real meaning! Bjorn: your haiku is exquisite!
Wow, I bet that is a challenging environment. I love how you gauge the coming of the seasons through your bike trips.
The light and lack of light is not so extreme here, but I understand what you mean. I am such a morning person, so it’s still dark when I get up now, but in the summer, the birds start singing, and I wake to light. In autumn, there is that beautiful afternoon light.
Is that your photo? It’s stunning.
The photo is mine, and I took it one morning on the way to work.
Wow!
beautiful words and stunning photo … I can’t imagine that much daylight, that’s extreme!
Yours is a beautiful country, like this haibun, so different from ours, specially the summer. Can’t imagine going to bed in daylight. Love the play of season and light here.
A lovely haibun! (But you can have winter all to yourself as far as I’m concerned.)
It’s really an impressive and creative work. I agree to that shadowing would have been great. It is nice anyway.