Eternal Spring

The last few days have been full of promise.  And to think that a few short weeks ago we were dealing with snow and ice and all sorts of winter weather.  Such a relief to finally stand on the porch and feel the warmth of the sun on my face and hear the turkey's gobble on the far ridge.

This morning was a wonderful sight.  Fog early with the sun rising like a moon over the fog bank.  Bright, bright sunshine pouring like molten gold into my house. And as I sat in my chair I was amazed at how that light seemed to seep into each corner and give it life.

From the porch, as the fog lifted, I could see  blades of grass  festooned with spider webs, crystal strands of diamond dew glistening in the sun.

Yesterday, before the storm arrived with threatening clouds and hail and wind, the sky was that unbelievable springtime blue.  White wisps of cotton were sailing over the hills as I drove into town.  How beautiful spring is here in the Ozarks. 

And it set me to thinking about the eternal nature of change in our world.  All of the trials and troubles, war and mayhem that we live with daily is just temporary.  Years and years ago, before we even set foot here in this wild and rocky land, the spring sky was just as blue.  The wild flowers sprang up to bloom and go to seed.  The turkeys sought their mates.  The deer browsed in field and forest.  And long after you and I are gone it will still be spring.  And some other eyes will grow to love the ever changing and eternal promise of this season of renewed life, and hope for the future.

Pushing spring....

Every day I am looking for signs of spring.  I don't know why I am so impatient this year.  We had a fairly mild winter, just as the weather forecasters said, for all the months up until February.  And then the weather gods decided to teach us a lesson or two.

Cold, bitter cold.  Wind, freezing wind.  Day after dreary day of clouds and gloom and blustery air driving the birds into the woods and all the little animals back into their safe and warm hide-away. 

I tried to find ways to keep my spirits up, but even I was bowing to the pressure and weight of what was happening outside my window.

And then the snow.  And the ice.  And the snow again.  Just when my heart was ready to break out of its winter mode, another Arctic blast from the north would arrive on my doorstep.

Every morning I would get up and see if I could see the sun, just a little ray of pink and yellow peeping over the clouds to the east.  And most mornings there was nothing but grey and more grey.  My heart would groan and ache.  I so wanted winter to end, right then.  But my pleading fell on deaf ears.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, the time of late winter dreariness ended.  The sun came out.  The birds started to gather on the tree tops and greet the new day.  Nest building began again.  I even saw a few green shoots coming up through the brown thatch.

And wonder of wonders, ice melted, snow banks disappeared and the sun came back into the sky.  All in the matter of a few days my winter world turned back into a place where I could begin to feel the warmer air pushing up from the south and the breeze softened with the promise of spring.

Now we have rain.  And mud.  And the certain knowledge that winter is over.  We may get a few more cold days.  We may even be visited with a late snow.  But I can feel it in my bones.  Spring is on its way. 

I don't know about you, but I am more than ready for it.  Welcome spring.