Hello again, dear reader! (Tonight I feel like blogging. Smile… I hope you feel like reading.)
This week I’ve been surprised to discover that Spring hath arrived–almost unnoticed. How could this be? In the last couple of years I have been super-alert to Spring’s arrival. Watching grass turn green, buds appear, dandelions announce the end of Winter’s epic visit.
Perhaps it was the trip to Georgia which interrupted my attention. Perhaps it was all that April snow. Perhaps it was this busy week. Who knows? But suddenly, unexpectedly, miraculously Spring is wearing its green and yellow and purple and blue and red clothes with style and gusto.
Yesterday morning at least a million birds sang in the woods before 6 a.m. Better than an alarm clock, dizzy and ecstatic in the light spring rain, they serenaded the buds and flowers and aspiring leaves and sleepy people to get up, wake up, don’t miss another second of spring’s arrival.
We get spring rather late here in the north country, as you know. With the exception of certain years–such as last year–when it decided to arrive prematurely in March. May is the usual month when we finally sigh in relief and dance in our hearts and try to assure ourselves that it’s stopped snowing for good. (Monday was the last day it snowed. We’re sure it’s over.)
Elisa shocked me earlier this week. She’s been reading my blog from a couple of years ago–the outdoor commitment blog–and she casually asked about our wild leeks this year. I don’t recall her exact question, but I remember thinking, “Leeks? Leeks? Ohmygoodness, how could I have forgotten LEEKS? Must get out and harvest some of them before the morel mushrooms arrive. MOREL MUSHROOMS? Ohmygoodness, must get out and go lookin’. And where’s our hummingbird feeder? Must get that out between May 10th-15th. Gosh, how did Spring sneak up so craftily and slyly this year?”
This evening seemed the appropriate moment to take the camera and photograph the riotous arrival of buds on the trees. What would we discover?
Then flashed the thought: “At what moment do the buds turn into leaves?”
This, of course, is a rhetorical question. How would we ever know the exact moment when a bud transformed into a leaf? Who would be astute and diligent enough to sit uponst a lawn chair with camera in hand, day after day, awaiting that fateful moment?
It probably shifts gradually. One day–or maybe within the space of a week–the buds will fall off the maple trees. Perhaps the green shoot of a leaf pushes the buds off. I know there will come a day when we’ll be sweeping maple buds off the deck. On another fine day–either in late May or June–yellow poplar fuzz will fly everywhere, heralding the arrival of green aspen leaves.
Thinking about the ways in which we are blooming in our own lives. The ways in which we are creating new buds, new leaves, new projects, new dreams, new desires, new possibilities.
In what way are you budding in your life?
Wishing everyone a Happy Mother’s Day tomorrow! May the love for our mothers bloom stronger in every springtime…