Spring, at Last?
After this blustery snowy winter, I delight in magazines and seed catalogs that herald the approach of spring.
Never the less, I do love the beauty of winter skies and landscapes pure and white. The skeleton shapes the trees take on remind me of dry times in my life when I was tempted to give up hope. They also remind me that “this, too, will pass” and that those down times were followed by rebirth. It is the very stark whiteness that highlights the colors of nature. How much more beautiful is the scarlet cardinal against a backdrop of pure white. Even the black of the crows is enhanced by the contrast, much like the black print on white paper that create words that connect us with the world and others. Perhaps some of the wintery times of our lives can be a backdrop for the beauty we often overlook.
Although I was born in northeastern Ohio, I have chosen to remain here because I love the contrasting seasons. They each bring a new look to our surroundings. I am fortunate that the design of my living room lends itself to different arrangements of furniture. I will have the couches, tables, chairs and TV one way for a few months, and then I will try another arrangement, and when I get finished, I heave a sigh and say, “Oh, this is so much better – so much prettier!” But a few months later, I will rearrange everything in a way that is quite similar to how it was in the first place. Again, I will sigh and think this is so much prettier! So, I enjoy how Mother Nature strips the trees bare and then is pleased with the simplicity and stark beauty of that arrangement. She puts on new slipcovers of snow and decorates the trees with valances of white. She keeps the Cardinals, Blue Jays and Chickadees for an accent of just a little color to brighten the area. Like me, she tires of that after a while, especially when cold winds bring down branches and valences, and the slipcovers begin to have a tint of gray, and she gets out her swatches and begins to redecorate in soft, pale greens so as to gently segue into a new arrangement. Soon, pretty red buds begin to open on the leaves of the maple trees, and birds begin to weave their nests of brown. Crocus of a wide variety of colors herald springtime, and daffodils and tulips are not far behind. Shy little white, yellow or purple violets form nosegays here and there in the tender green grass. More birds begin to arrive and sing, and it is as if we have discovered some CDs we have not played in a while and we thrill to the enjoyment of them. We want to throw open the windows and let the soft breezes in, to go for walks and sit by the Falls, or drive along River Road, entranced by the twists and turns of the stream beside it. Days grow longer and adventure beckons.
Where should we go, and with whom? Should we try one of those one-tank trips that we have seen on TV and can still find in Neil Zucker’s books? I love to go out 422 to 518 to 88 – the back way to Middlefield – and watch the Amish do their spring plowing with their huge Clydesdales. As they turn over the soil, I think of some of the things that need to be turned over in my life so that new ideas, new hopes, new dreams can be planted, perhaps to be reaped when winter again approaches.
When spring showers turn the skies to gray, I love to put a bouquet of soft gray pussy willows in a vase with a few bright yellow daffodils. They remind me of how beautiful are the dark clouds when trimmed with golden sunlight. It also reminds me that I need time for joy and laughter and fun, but I also need quiet times to rebuild my spirit.
What seeds will I plant this year? God has blessed me with a loving family, good friends and great neighbors. Perhaps I will plant a memory bush to remind me to tell them how much I love and appreciate them. So many wonderful people have entered my life and enhanced it! Perhaps I will plant a butterfly bush, to remind me of my soul and to remember that as beautiful as this life is for me, it is just a cocoon, from which I will emerge in eternity. I might plant Passion Flowers to inspire me to be enthusiastic and passionate about sharing my joy with others. I could plant some rose bushes to
remind me that thorns in my life make me appreciate the beauty in my life all the more. Just as it takes rain to make plants grow, we sometimes need to shed tears so that we can grow. I really do not need to plant Impatiens, as I am already too impatient for my own good. I wonder whether Bachelor Buttons would bring a new companion to my door!
No matter what I plant, the soil of my life will be richer for having tilled it and nurtured the seeds I have planted.
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These articles are published in the Spirit of Bainbridge every three weeks, and mailed to every home and business in Auburn and Bainbridge Townships (zip code 44023).
Additional copies are distributed locally at Arabica, Bainbridge Library, Lowe’s Greenhouse, Sirna’s Market & Deli and other locations in Auburn, Aurora, Bainbridge, Chagrin Falls, Chesterland, Solon and South Russell.
Approximately 7,300 copies of Spirit of Bainbridge are circulated.