I must admit, you are not my favorite of the seasons.
While cold weather doesn’t particularly tickle my fancy, the embrace of a cozy fireside art session offers a welcoming retreat from the biting winds. Winter, for all her stubbornness, at least knows how to commit to the mood.
So what is it about your temperate equinox that leaves me less than enthused?
The short answer is that you can feel a bit underwhelming.
Here in the Pacific Northwest, spring is nearly winter’s Irish twin. We wait with eager expectation for you to grace our grand evergreens with your presence, only to be met with days of gloomy sunbreaks and evenings that are damp and uninviting. You arrive quietly, almost shyly, as if unsure whether you should stay.
And yet, we take what we are given.
Because beneath the gray skies and lingering chill, something important is happening. The earth is resting and gathering itself, preparing quietly for the work ahead. Roots stretch deeper. Buds form with patience. The soil, still cool, holds the promise of what summer will soon ask it to deliver.
Spring, in all your subtlety, are the season that prepares the way.
When summer finally opens her arms, we will be enveloped in the fullness of her generosity—a harvest of color, warmth, and abundance made possible by you, dear spring.
So while you may not be my favorite, I have come to appreciate your quiet work behind the scenes.
After all, every beautiful table begins with preparation.
— Michelle
At The Table is a seasonal editorial filled with recipes and simple gathering tips. In the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing recipes that feel fresh and unfussy, dishes meant for longer evenings, open windows, and tables that welcome both planned dinners and the occasional unexpected guest.
It feels only right to begin the season with a bright baked salmon salad, a meal that captures the quiet shift from winter to spring.
