In our neck of the woods, March just came in as a roaring lion. Strong winds and a 30° Fahrenheit drop in temperature brought an unexpected snowfall and a return to the winter deep freeze. Though we saw the first red-winged blackbirds of the coming season on Friday’s walk, by Saturday, they were hiding from the cold. And we couldn’t wait to return to our wood stove.
But one thing keeps me hopeful. The light is slowly coming back. The sun is showing its face a little more each day. And, even though light meaning brightness and light meaning not heavy are two very different words, I seem to intertwine them at this time of year. At my cheese shop, all the regulars can talk about is the sun, the light of it, the warmth of it. But there’s also a look in their eyes that reflects a shedding of a weight, a loosening, a new freedom. Despite the chaos of our world, this intimation of spring pulls me forward. Nature once again reminds me that cycles come and go. After winter’s dearth of light and warmth, spring will bring rebirth and replenishment.
Remember that word I gave myself in January? Ampleness. Comfortable sufficiency. This is something I can carry within no matter what happens around me. Though our culture often speaks of richness in terms of money, I know that what really makes my life rich is how I approach my time and my relationships. If I can share even one small thing with someone, that also enriches my life.
As spring approaches, I like the idea of imagining my positive gestures and kind actions and gifts as seeds that will sprout and grow. This is what I can do right here where I live, work and interact. Just like the grass that slowly shifts from yellow to green right outside my window, here in my town, my hands-on contribution can spread. And this is where the richness lies.
We can all contribute to it in some small way. And it has nothing to do with money.
So are you ready for spring, for planting seeds, for sharing the richness? In my mind’s eye, I see the flower shoots poking through, I hear the peepers giving their all, I smell the damp, earthy smell of the first spring rain, all riches beyond compare. These are the real harbingers of hope for this world.
P.S. As you know from reading my words, I believe in a world where kindness and grace abound. I ask you, if you’re willing, to help plant those seeds around you.
P.S. P.S. As I write this, I’m on my annual pilgrimage to France. If you’ve read this far, and are interested, I’ll send you a postcard from France. Just email or message me your address and I’ll get something in the snail mail.
Thanks, also, to
for inspiring this post.
Here in Upstate New York I always keep a lookout for those first green shoots of the spring daffodils pushing up through the thawing ground as indication that new life is ahead. Enjoy France!
Here it feels like Spring too, although it is still rather cold and will get colder still before the warmth wakes up the bumblebees and the butterflies. I have started sowing seeds though, and will start working on the new beds as soon as we get the wood.
I am getting some snail mail ready too... I guess a postcard from France would be welcome 😊
Safe travels to you, Rachel! Take care.