Yesterday it was in the high 70’s. I had a short sleeved shirt on, and spent the early evening watching a spectacular rose and peach and lavender sunset. I wandered the property with my son, who was using his nifty weed-puller tool to yank out the pesky thistles just starting to crop up.
What a day…
What a sunset…
What lovely conversation and company…
Here is part of my budding lily garden, with it’s joyful daffodils smiling — so happy to be jumping about after a long winter snooze!
And… yeah. Here is today:
Ok, well, this isn’t actually me. It’s a stock photo (what… don’t look at me like that — I’m not going outside in that weather! At least, not any more than I have to when I tend the livestock…)
Here’s the thing. This happens just about every year here in the foothills along the Rocky Mountains. In my post about home, I suppose I should have acknowledged that, yeah, just like the mountains, the spring season has some sharp spikes that last until about the middle of May.
How do these trees, flowering buds, gentle lilies, tender shoots of comfrey in my dragon garden, the rose canes greening in my secret garden… how do they come back year after year after year amidst such intense hardship and extremity in weather? And not just come back, but thrive, flourish, and produce spectacular flowers, leaves, and new growth?
Well, there is certainly a watering happening, that’s for sure. Spring showers and all that… In fact, by the time May gets here, there will be a gorgeous months here along the front range, with a green in the budding trees so bright and vibrant I want to eat it.
Mostly, I want to be a part of that intense revival of spirit in the natural world, that intense churning back and forth, forth and back in the extremes of weather and temperature, in the extremes of internal awareness and outer circumstance that continually necessitate a deeper, more complete surrender and faith that yes, something really good is coming, despite the hardships and the turbulence of these times. Maybe because of the hardships.
That something really green and potent and wonderful is about to burst to life.