I walked out my back door just now into that That Time of Year….
It didn't come quietly. It came with grand proclamation.
Perched at tree's top, she was loud and insistent, so much so she stopped me still no sooner than I had found my pace. So I listened. No, not just listened…I heard. "Praise his glorious name forever!" she declared. "The whole earth is filled with his glory," amen and amen, punctuation to her Psalter song.
I reached for my phone to capture her a little while longer. The battery died right after. At first I'm angry–That Time of Year demands pictures!– but I'll soon learn how great a blessing, this seeing with wide eyes rather than behind a tiny lens.
This is that time of year when lions are dandy and herds are born in fields of clover. Young manes are lemon and sunshine and a traffic light's caution. Elders' are cotton-topped, a crumple of fairy wings, wispy clouds on a stem. Cotton candy cake pops? They're a nuisance and play toy all at once. One of a squillion nature-miracles we take for granted, and by those of an ornery disposition, disdain.
I round the corner and slam into a hint of summer to come–had I been paying closer attention, the hum of a distant motor would have been sufficient warning. It's barely and j u s t warm enough for the scent of fresh-cut grass to conjure all manner of childhood memory, yes, and that mixture of oil and gasoline. I breathe in deep, fill my lungs, beg for more, holding tight to what was and what is and what will be. Powerful scent of green and youth and promise.
A little further along the way, I'm dazzled. This is a curious thing–the colors of spring aren't my favorite and yet I love them. Jasmine's gold, Red Bud's magenta, Wisteria's lavender. Everything is dusted in pollen, an unfortunate price to pay for spring's spectacular show.
I'm wrecked with love for the South. I've lived in three of her states now and they're the same and completely different and you have to spend some time in each to see and hear the subtleties. I'm so glad I've seen and heard. Fifty shades of Hey! usually followed by a y'all.
The grassy smell turns sickly sweet the closer I get to that tangled mass of Wisteria. Their clusters of flowers hang like grapes on a vine and I'm wild about them because they refuse to be bound, tamed, controlled. They're strong, resilient and faithful to return, the best kind of friend. Bees grow fat on their drink and I inch closer. I'm trusting these aren't the stinging kind, that they're more interested in their work than a voyeur of their trade. I wonder what their honey tastes like.
I walked out my back door just now into that That Time of Year and some people would call it a walk around the block.
I am not some people…a prayer of thanksgiving for who I am.
Robin,
Don’t you love how cool and creative He is? 🙂
I walked outside one day, the next day primroses were blooming, and baby’s breath. Spring has sprung?
I live in Las Vegas; people, this time of year, start complaining about the unbearable heat….so odd for them to feel this way! Take away the “man-made” around us, and you, of course, have what was once the desert, for goodness sake! But, still even in it’s desolate nature springs some of the most beautiful foliage I have ever been blessed to see. Yes, even in the desert, God is good and His mercies endure forever, Amen. Thanks for sharing!
You painted a beautiful picture. So true, sometimes we need to put the camera down and see with the naked eye. Some things were meant just for us to see in that moment and not to be shared with the world.
You most definitely are NOT ‘some people.’ Thanks for the walkabout into springtime in the south, Robin. We’re there, too, but probably not quite as dramatically – and there is still a nip in the air, too. AND, in Nebraska, where I head tomorrow, they are predicting snow flurries. Oy vey.
WOW! What a beautiful description of the Miracles that God brings each Spring. Spring and Fall are by far my favorite seasons of the year.
Here in TN it is still somewhat nippy, but Easter Lilies are blooming and there seems to be an air of “new life” being born out of winter!
Such wonderful colors & scents! Praise God!