Rain clouds and the brilliant greens.  The sky seems bluer.  We crawl out of our houses like we’ve been hibernating.  We stretch our arms, breath in the air and begin those outdoor activities.  We open our windows.  All of the windows.  So much that was dormant is now alive again.

The days get longer. It may be my favorite part of the spring.  Even with the loss of an hour on Daylight Savings, I’ll take the later light.  More can be done.  More seems possible.

These are the best days to play hooky from work.  Stay in school kids!

This is the time of year when writing songs in the windowless cellar of the Bunker is less than ideal.  I’ll happily take my acoustic outside and write under a tree.

Years ago, one of my favorite spots was at Lake Harriet across the parkway from the Band shell. There is a trolley bridge and if you sit under it, there are pretty good acoustics.  I also like to go down to Hidden Falls off of East River Road and sit by the Mighty Mississippi. Seriously though, there are tons of beautiful places around here.  You can get the trails and the water and the acoustics of your winter dreams.

I’ll rarely pass up the opportunity to sit on the stool on my patio and strum away an afternoon.

The Bunker sounds like muffled metal bands most of the time. And it smells, not terrible, but not fresh.  Spray some fabreeze or light a fragrant candle, but it’s still the Bunker.  Writing in the Bunker is always the same, be it October or April.

The outdoors awakens my senses. The sounds of spring are all around.  I hear the birds chirping, neighbor dogs, the old man with the leaf blower, school busses and children scattering into the neighborhood, a siren or two.  There could be a frog or crickets, or even the bubbling from the little water feature in the backyard four houses down.  The freeway is always rushing by and the list goes on.  Sometimes I close my eyes and pay attention to what I hear.  Try it when it rains and see if you can tell which gutters work the best.  The smells of spring are long anticipated.  After being in the stale environment of winter and in our sealed living spaces for months, spring is literally a breath of fresh air.  Everything rushes in: the cut grass, the sweet blossoms, the BBQ’s and bonfires.  I mean, strawberries are going to be ripe for picking in a couple months.

I wonder how this Northern spring awakening plays a part in song writing and creativity in general. Everything is sprouting and budding and ready to bloom.  So much change is happening quickly.  There is an energy.  And if we look at it in a personal cyclical sort of way, we have the opportunity to see everything brand new, and at the same time, be conscious of the world’s renewal.  And maybe, to see how intricately linked we are to the natural world.

“The beautiful spring came; and when Nature resumes her loveliness, the human soul is apt to revive also.” – Harriet Ann Jacobs