From Robyn on Patreon in 2025
The evenings grow longer around this time of year as we nose into February up here in the North; nonetheless, winter drags on. On my home planet of England, March and April are chilly corridors to the summer, but our weather is still bloody freezing. Climate change may be messing with the wake-up calls that bulbs and buds feel as the sap rises, and, to be sure, heat waves are on the rise, too. However, by the time Spring is fully installed, and the air is warming up, somewhere in mid-May, we’re only a few weeks off the summer solstice when the nights will begin to creep back in again. For a Brit like me, Spring comes too late - always.

It’s taken a lifetime for this title to crystallize in my head. Being a songwriter, I’ve turned it into a song, though I think it might work best as a short story or a movie. We roam that narrow strip of land between fear and regret, fueled by guilt or desire, expelled from our own fragile Eden. We’re always anticipating some mysterious package, but by the time it arrives, we won’t be there to receive it. Spring, like the cavalry, arrives too late.

Perhaps the “Spring Comes Too Late” story/movie might involve a young woman in the 1970s who travels to Switzerland in search of her estranged father, only to find, on her arrival, that he has died. However, in an Alpine station cafe, she chances to sit next to someone who claims to have known him and learns a disturbing amount about her, too… And so it goes.

Where would you make it go?