as i write we are under winter storm warning (once more). this side of a midwestern spring is mayhem, but as well it is a lauded diversion from the intensity of planning and measuring. it’s within the unassumed moments that we thrive. we catch our breath, we lose it again. we muse on deep chasms of change and meditate on the small subtleties.
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the breeze barely murmurs but the feeling is all-consuming. a hint of green budding fat on the ends of trees, and the sun finds them now with longer arms. not all days occupy equal simplicity, but to utter the words ‘now it is spring’ seems to ease any residual tension that coincides with life. the birds collect in the ceiling of the garden department and sing poetic sermons. a warm evening spent shoveling in the light of the rising moon uncovers deeply rooted earthworms, cycling through the soil with repetition and grace. the surrounding signs are abundant. the determination for what exists beneath to emerge is evident. we stir from our snowy blanket one morning and find we are surrounded by perseverance.
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versatility in the air, and my sensible heart travels humbly through the days. one warm week and one bitter wind later we’re traipsing the path to an official spring date. it’s chaos and curiosity. pomp and circumstance. curtness and kindness. mourning and blessing. time never quite doing what you want it to, but never failing.
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the quiet of a moody dusk, and then the wind is a howling force searing the indigo night air. the moments that lead up to the spring here are always highly unpredictable, oscillating wildly just until the day is upon us. sometimes early, sometimes late, and sometimes the winter flatly turns into summer. so believe me with all fever and emotion attached that my bliss is the feeling of spring upon us. it is a density in the air, a departure from the dry and static. a humidity that livens my step. rain instead of snow. and even if we are a product of climate pattern, we are taking the moment to slowly revel in a foreseeable future.
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