Especially in Minnesota, it’s so easy to understand why so many of the world’s religions have rites around spring. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if spring itself were the phenomenon that inspired the religious sense. Who doesn’t look at the buds on trees that were skeletons a week before and think “miracle!” You can just imagine crops growing where nothing grew two weeks before, and people standing around and knowing that this was nothing less than miraculous, even if the mechanisms that prompt it can be described.
Spring arrives here later than most of the country, so we’re just starting to get those remarkable tiny leaves that are so brilliantly green. Everywhere I look, which was so recently either brown or iced over, the green is taking over (except, of course, my lawn, which needs some major TLC if I don’t want to be known as “the gal who lives in the crackhouse on the corner”). This is the kind of thing that makes even a hardened agnostic think, “Go, God! Take State! Spring rules!”