the rite of spring.

(growing grass, accompanied by Stravinsky's famous piece:)Of all seasons, spring is the most romanticized. My personal iconography of spring recalls simple die-cuts of bright yellow daffodils and red kites stapled to an elementary school bulletin board.

It's not that I don't love the green evidence of newness and promises of milder weather, It's just that I think all of that growth comes with a painful price that is typically overlooked.

New beginnings mean old endings. Springtime is difficult in terms of school. Not only do you find yourself battling preparations for final exams, but you likewise discover which scholarships you were not awarded; to which programs you were not accepted. Spring requires juggling a demanding present, simultaneously forcing some deep stabs of reality directed at your future.

Springtime is difficult in terms of relationships. The possibility of new relationships indicates the reality of older ones fading. And a slightly scary vulnerability inevitably accompanies the exciting freshness of any relationship.

I recognize that I may sound pessimistic, and it's not my intention. I just believe that there are huge blows of pain we must swallow to truly taste the fruits of constructive growth. There's no season that I feel this more strongly. Even childbirth involves carnage; spears of new grass penetrating upward through soil can appear violent.

I think Stravinksy's "Rite of Spring" illustrates my feelings about springtime perfectly.
Quoting Wikipedia in regard to the piece's May 29, 1913 premiere at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées in Paris :

At the start with the opening bassoon solo, the audience began to boo loudly due to the slight discord in the background notes behind the bassoon's opening melody. There were loud arguments in the audience between supporters and opponents of the work. These were soon followed by shouts and fistfights in the aisles. The unrest in the audience eventually degenerated into a riot.

A masterpiece marked by initial dissatisfaction.