As winter morphs into spring, leaving behind it's overcast blue-grey skies, trickling melting snow, and cold, beautifully clear and quiet early morning skies behind, my heart, spirit and mind are refreshed, as if awaken from a dense slumber. My senses are heightened to the sounds of wind chimes tinkling on the breeze and birds happily gossiping to the world. Some of my garden is beginning to come alive again with green, and air is filled with the fresh sent of the ground as it's grasses and new growth wake from their deep sleep. It is a time of rebirth. Rebirth in the earth, rebirth in relationships, rebirth in attitudes, and rebirth of the spirit. Anything seems possible. Springtime is a season of hope and of optimism.
I feel a certain giddy happiness with springtime. It is easier to love, easier to get out and exercise, easier to do things that normally I procrastinate on (and believe me, the list is long!) Spring and all it's glorious details energizes me. (Ok, my husband might disagree with me, as I have fallen asleep before 10pm the last few nights, and I'm typically a night owl. My internal energy is on the rise, I should clarify.). Everything has such a happy glow and people seem more cheerful. It isn't, yet, too hot, and seemingly, there are miracles happening everywhere. My butterfly garden, now brown and covered over with last autumn's leaves and debris, will soon be hard to keep up with, full of flowers and butterflies. The lilac bush, that my flute students gave to us as a wedding gift, already has tiny buds on it, and has tripled in size from the day we received it. A few sunny daffodils paint the yard with a happy forshadowing of promises of joy yet to come. And my music studio is filled with the scent of a pot of blooming pink hyacinths, their blooms heavy and lying on the shelf. The cats have been spending this afternoon outside, lying on the driveway, bellies up or rolling about, sunning themselves. Oh, if only I were a cat, with nothing better to do. I suppose that I could go out and roll with them, but the neighbors might think I'm having a seizure or something and call 911. The sunshine feels so good.
I think that I'll spend the evening cleaning up the yard and the flower beds. It's hard not to be too anxious about getting flowers and plants (and my little hands) into the soil, but I know better. We've not seen the last frost yet. As beautiful as it is here, early spring can be deceptive and a little too inviting.
