What Maryland and DC’s Early Spring Teaches Us About Change, Loss, and Renewal
I love this time of year. Even the quick changes in weather are interesting.
This morning, the rain was fierce for two to three hours. If you were outside, you would be drenched within minutes. The rain poured so fast you could barely see through it. Yet just two hours later, the clouds drifted away, the sun bathed the windows in light, and a gentle breeze moved through the open rooms. Where are we? How can things change so fast?
Sometimes the volatility of the weather feels like the way my own moods shift—one moment overwhelming and all‑consuming, and the next unexpectedly peaceful. It makes me wonder whether nature’s abrupt transformations echo the rapid changes I feel inside, and whether accepting them is simply part of living through the seasons.
The storm also removed the last remnants of the cherry blossoms on the big tree out front. I miss the beautiful pink blossoms that are now just a pile of soggy mash on the driveway, sticking to shoes and tracking into the house. Those gorgeous things are now a nuisance. How can this be?
The cherry blossoms have always been more than a pretty sight. They are the season’s first promise—delicate, bright, and hopeful—arriving just when the world feels ready to wake up again. Seeing them scattered in the rain, their beauty gone so quickly, makes me think about how quickly wonderful moments slip away. Losing them stirs up a deep nostalgia, a reminder that everything I love is temporary, and that every beautiful moment, no matter how vibrant, will eventually pass. Their cycle of blooming and falling brings both loss and a gentle acceptance, as if nature is teaching me how to let go with grace.
This abrupt shift happens in other ways as well. The Sherry Baby orchid in the side window is dropping blossoms everywhere, and if you don’t pick them up soon, they stain the table and make a mess. What was most enjoyable only a short while ago is now an annoyance.
Perhaps this is the point. Pleasantries are fleeting, turning into memories we revisit but can never retain—much like cherry blossoms that bloom briefly and fade. I think about moments in my own life that slipped away too quickly: a conversation on a park bench I wished could have lasted longer, or a short visit from an old friend who moved away. Sometimes a certain laugh or smell brings those memories back for just a flash before they disappear again. Maybe their impermanence is what makes them precious.
Spring marks the start of a new season of growth and beauty that lasts only a short while before giving way to the next. It brings joy and memories that can be accessed at any time of year. We take pictures, record scenes, store memories, write stories, or send letters to friends in the desert who do not get to see the cherry trees.
In spring, everything starts over. Inspired, I begin again too.
I will start with cleaning out my closet. An object or a memory—it makes no difference. All must be reviewed and sorted. They call it spring cleaning for a reason. Everything accumulated over the winter is up for investigation. I have too many blankets and can never use them all. The charitable organization down the road will be glad to have them. My closet needs sorting, and several dresses and outfits will go to the local secondhand shop to find a new life.
As I sort through these belongings, I notice a mix of feelings bubbling up. Holding an old sweater, I remember the comfort it gave me in difficult moments and wonder if someone else will feel the same warmth. Some things are easy to let go of, while others tug at me, recalling memories I almost forgot. A single scarf or pair of shoes can bring back a flood of images from years ago. Sometimes I hesitate, feeling resistance to parting with pieces that carry a story. Yet as each item leaves the closet, I feel a gradual sense of relief and lightness—as though I’m making room for something new within myself as well.
If the cherry tree can start over, embracing change and renewal each season, so can I.
For more reflections on emotional growth and seasonal transitions, explore articles on Psychology Today and research from Greater Good Science Center.
If you are navigating your own season of change, therapy can help you understand what to release and what to carry forward. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support emotional renewal and personal growth.
By Dr. Gloria K Vanderhorst
