You are Windblown

Spring has sprung and per the weathermen it may have come too soon.  I wandered out to the lilacs and lillies and checked the emerging green shoots and tight buds.  I wondered if the the man on the screen might be right.  Would my fragile plants be bitten by a frost yet to come?  How could I know, and what could I do to prevent such a mishap?  It seems there is very little I can do to protect my cherished blossoms.  All I can do is enjoy this bit of spring and hope that it will hold on.  That somehow it will not relinquish its grasp on the season, and that at a minimum it will nip Jack Frost in the nose and keep him at bay until next year.

It makes me wonder too, at how much worrying we do for our young.  Our blossoms that we nuture over the years.  Through the seasons of their youth.  Tugging on coats and hats, reminding them about shoes and socks, helmets and other safety gear.  I am amazed I made it through childhood without all of the extra padding come to think of it.  Though I did indeed have my fair share of winter wrappings. Somehow I did indeed make it through, and though in some ways I am sure it seemed that spring came far too early in my life for my Mom and Dad, I did not fail to bloom.  (Or at least I don't believe I did - and perception is well over  two thirds of the battle.)  So with this is mind, I endeavor not to coddle my younglings - with an eye toward a future where they will stand tall with a strong wind blowing and a constant prayer that they will never face a gale force wind.

Funny how easy it is to slip from the casual observation of the tiny little buds on the lilac to the concerns of family, the ripple effects of time and the sudden rush of spring.  It is a time of renewal and with that comes the knowledge that somethings must be left at the wayside for the new growth to spring forth.  That is part of the cycle, as natural as breathing in and breathing out.  I guess we take it for granted quite often that in order to grow we must allow for change, and change typically involves letting some things go.  A snake sheds its skin, humans nails grow and break,  we all leave bits behind us as we become who we will be.  Even my lovely lillies leave the shells of their former glory on the ground as they burst into the new year.  I guess it could be that they intend to absorb that richness over time as it redeposits itself into the soil.  But as I clean it up each year that no longer happens.  That goes into the compost for someone else to value.

And still I fear the frost of this early season as much as I enjoy the current warmth.  There must be some natural balance in my reaction to this weather.  The contemplative joy I feel as the sun hits the window, and the need to water the plants - shocked though they will be - as I hardly ever manage to water them enough. Spring indeed has sprung - and with it the hopes and fears of the coming year.

May the earth's blessings be upon you, and may your God lift up your heart.

Enjoy it while you have it........................as the song goes - you are windblown..........

And you know the rest