April is not such a good month for me, traditionally. Last year was the first time in a very long time that I didn’t feel that way, but I wasn’t really surprised - quitting the job that was sucking the joy out of my life and embarking on two months of vacation couldn’t help but be fun.

I’ve been expecting the traditional April malaise to hit again this spring, but here we are halfway through the month and so far everything’s peachy.  I am working and planting and cooking and reading and generally happy as a clam.

I have a theory that it’s because of my garden, because of owning a little patch of land that belongs to me and that I have worked for the past two springs.  Everywhere I look for the past few weeks, something is coming to life that I started.  The forsythia in the back yard, so gnarly and overgrown and barely flowering that first spring we moved in, is a riot of gold flowers right now, and the tulip bulbs beneath are sending up leaves and starting to swell into flowers.  In the front yard, the roses are putting out new red shoots, and alongside the porch the daffodils I planted last fall are tall and beautiful and every time we pull into the driveway I’m happy to see them.  It’s nice to feel that there are beautiful things in the world that are there because of me, and that will go on being there after me (barring someone taking over the house and ripping out all the lovely plants, but let us not think of that.)

Plus, spring in Pittsburgh happens so fast.  Winter lingers all through March and into April and then suddenly it is spring and everything is racing to grow in the few brief weeks we get before summer hits full force.  I don’t have time to be depressed when every time I blink, something new has started to bloom and something else is finishing up its flowering, and there are new types of plants everywhere that I’ve never noticed before and have to examine to see if maybe I want to grow them in my own yard.  Just today I noticed that there are little purple flowers in the empty lot next door, that I’ve never noticed the past two springs.  Have they just turned up this year?  Have I been overlooking them all this time?  Do they bloom so briefly that there’s only a tiny window to notice and enjoy them?

I guess I feel a little more connected to the world around me than I have in the past.  I don’t know that my April ghosts are gone for good, but they at least seem to be at peace for a while, which is good enough for me.