Every year in March Israeli kindergarteners learn a song, “How do we know that spring has come? When daisies and poppies have decorated my country”. It’s actually chrysanthemums, not daisies but that seems a bit heavy on the tongue.
For me spring officially arrives when the garlic-mobile comes to the neighborhood, selling huge bunches of fresh garlic with soil still clinging to the purple white bulbs. It is massively stinky, seeping into clothes and skin even if left outside. “There’s nothing like this abroad” says the garlic man proudly. Although this is a colloquialism that Israelis tend to use often, in this case, I have to agree with him. Luckily the smell subsides after a few days and in return I have a year’s supply of local garlic.
Happy spring to everybody and happy fall to those Down Under.