A particular Snoopy comic strip reminds me of what Spring is all about.

In the first frame, the children of Charles M. Schultz’s fictional world are standing around — not doing much really.

You can imagine Charlie Brown, Lucy, Linus, Sally and the bunch have spent the last bleak months of winter trapped inside their homes, staring out at cold, gray skies.

If they lived in Mississippi, those skies would come packaged with unpredictable stretches of rain.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Snoopy comes into the next frame, doing a happy dance. With his nose in the air, a smile stretched across his face and a swirling cloud of lines to represent his feet, Snoopy reaches out to hand Easter eggs to the crowd of kids. His ever-faithful feathered companion Woodstock following closely behind, Snoopy is the herald of spring.

The cloud of dust kicked up by Snoopy’s happy dance envelops the children. When the dust settles in the last frame, the children are left with smiles on their faces and colorful eggs in their hands.

There are no words in this particular comic strip — just actions and emotion.

That is what spring is like for me. One day I am standing in the middle of a bleak winter landscape wondering when the days of rain and gray skies will end.

And then suddenly nature does its happy dance. Temperatures warm, flowers burst forth and a thin layer of green pollen settles on anything that remains outside for more than five minutes.

Pinks, yellows, purples — nearly every shade in the spectrum — covers the landscape. And, as in Peanuts, it seemingly happens in the blink of two comic strip frames.

For us it happened between 8 a.m. and 2 p.m. Monday.

Long hours of drizzle and heavy blankets of fog filled the days before, casting a steel gray mood across the landscape.

A similarly somber mood became noticeable in the Miss-Lou became in the last few weeks.

It may be because of the death of Adams County Sheriff Ronny Brown or community leader Dr. Don Killelea. Or it may be because of the continuing effects of a bad economy, including the demise of a once hopeful deal to sell the county hospital.

These notable losses and others throughout the community created ripples across the collective emotional landscape that have allowed a malaise to settle — as heavy as Monday morning’s fog.

Then suddenly, Monday afternoon, spring burst through the clouds. The trees practicality glowed as the sunlight struck their new green leaves.

It would be foolish to think that warmer temperatures and bright flowers are the cure for the community’s woes.

Yet like that Peanuts cartoon, the sudden energy of spring reminds us of the cyclical nature of life.

Spring reminds us that despite life’s great difficulties, there is opportunity for renewal and rebirth. Like Snoopy entering the scene, renewal happens suddenly and without warning.

Like Snoopy handing out eggs to the children, we too must be waiting with outstretched arms for the gifts of spring and renewal.

Want to dance?

Ben Hillyer is the web editor of The Natchez Democrat. He can be reached at 601-445-3540 or ben.hillyer@natchezdemocrat.com.