When the words don’t come, just sit in patient contemplation. The written word doesn’t always come when it’s called, but it can always be coerced with enough gumption.
In moments like these, I feel like Alice falling down the rabbit hole into a world of possibilities with infinite possibility. It’s given me faith many times, and crushed my soul a bit when, even the tiniest spark of inspiration doesn’t set the page ablaze.
The insurgence of spring each year gives me hope. Though I love the winter in all it’s icy glory, I bloom better in the sun. My older sister always did call me a wildflower.
Still, the season of spring has a pseudo-romanticism about it. The earth is full of fertility produces countless new flora and fauna as the last few frosts die away until next year. I could be partial to it because it means my birthday is coming, which is always a treat, but in reality, my happiness stems from the feeling that the world has just rolled out of bed and has started to hum and buzz with her children.
What a line. Reading that back, it sounds cheesy. Do I care? Nope: it’s the way I feel about it. After a hard first winter in the Great North (Texas), it will be nice to enjoy nature again in only one or two layers of clothing.
Spring also brings the feeling of starting over, with the opportunity to wash off the hard days past and put your feet in the dirt. If you’ve never done this, it’s incredibly healing to reconnect with Mother Earth as she wakes from her hibernation. Take off your shoes and say hello.
The urge to go outside is almost unbearable sometimes. The urge to rush seeds into the ground is almost unbearable. Songbirds in the backyard are now my alarm clock. Canadian geese are here in flocks on ponds throughout our county, and I am reminded of how much I love it here when I see them.
As the season stretches itself to life, I too am awakened.
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