| | Judah always asks to go for a walk when it's raining, one of the many "inconvenient" things about him that I love. We bundled his little sister into her purple fleece bodysuit and crammed her into the bjorn, . Rubber boots, camo rain jacket, out the door. It had stopped by the time we made it out the door, excepting a few tardy droplets. We did the usual thing - checked out the bird bath (more full of pebbles placed there last year than water), watched the cars, walked down the sidewalk toward "D" street and Judah's favorite puddle (tubble) which returns with every rain. Not too many signs of the (supposedly) coming spring. Then, true to form, the request to go in the backyard.
We kicked the tigger ball around, went down the damp slide, ran around in circles. In between requests to "goin' down the s[l]ide?" and "run circles, Mama?", I looked around at the flower beds and garden boxes, taking inventory of what needs to be done to get them into shape for the growing season. I was surprised at what I saw. Namely, signs of life. The leaves of some of the perennials have already emerged, pushing their green fingers through the earth to receive whatever sunlight there is. There are the beginnings of buds on the cherry tree, some of the twigs on the pear tree have greened.
All of this, right when it seems spring will never come. More than that, all of this has been on its way since everything browned, bowed and died in the fall. The bulb's leaves were planning their return before I had even tired of winter. The cherry buds were thinking about their resurrection while covered in snow during Advent. For all of my complaining and impatience, it appears that I didn't begin them nearly soon enough for them to be timely. The flower beds and fruit trees are more eager than I am for the resurrection and renewal. They anticipate Easter before we enter Lent. And their impatience out strips mine; they cannot contain their desire to be reborn.
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| | Posted 3/19/2008 11:45 AM - 101 Views - 4 eProps - 2 comments
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Love,
Mom