Spring Season Reflection
My Road Goes Ever On
This Momentous Event
In a Spring Season Reflection, I experience the outstanding joy of spring, allowing the presence of a greater Presence to infiltrate my mind.
It’s spring now, and the birds know it. So do the frogs, the trees, and every insect known in these parts, and—intellectually— so does every human being in this hemisphere. Despite this momentous event in all our lives, our reactions are startlingly different.
If human beings were as in tune with nature as—well—nature is, then we’d be treating this momentous event with far greater respect. The trees are putting out brilliant new leaves and bursting into blossom for the occasion. Insects have literally come to life. Birds are building fresh nests and preparing for the next generation. Even the frogs are singing their hearts out each evening.
Other than a change of clothes, planting farm fields, and altering the date on forms, it appears as if the seasonal change doesn’t affect human beings nearly as exorbitantly.
Granted, if we burst into song (or croaks, as the case may be) walking down the street, we’d probably get a few stares, and if we tore our houses apart and built them anew, there would be legitimate questions asked. We can’t grow new skin, exactly, and a completely new line of clothes would be rather expensive. As for new life, we celebrate that at Easter, with the resurrection of Christ. As for our bodies, well, we have to wait our turn.
But still, as I sit on my back porch and feel the warm sun rays seeping into my vitamin-depleted skin, watch the sparrows, cardinals, robins, and jays flutter about in energetic excitement, contemplate the pale green seed pods dangling from the tips of maple branches, while white and pink blossoms dot the peach, cherry, and apple trees, I can’t help but think that I have greatly underappreciated the miracle of spring.
This weekend, my daughter turned over the garden beds and planted the potatoes and onions. My greenhouse, which my son put up for me and anchored down so it didn’t blow away in stormy weather, is brim full with baby tomato, pepper, and assorted other vegetable plants. The chick house has been swept and made ready, while the cats’ and dogs’ winter accommodations have been moved to summer quarters. Even the bees are setting their abodes into proper order and scoping out the lay of the land.
It’s not that things aren’t getting done, for clearly, this rural neighborhood’s to-do list has grown to formidable lengths. Even the forsythia bush seems to be in a hurry to get dressed in gay apparel. But spiritually, mentally, emotionally—I have to ask—Do I really appreciate what is happening here, now?
The headline news is as terrible as ever. Work conflicts, family misunderstandings, highway stress, school bullying, economic trials, and warning of near doom, all seem very much the same.
Perhaps, I wonder, if we humans spent as much time living in the present as we do in the past and the future, we would be able to experience the outstanding joy of spring.
Personally, I raced through Lent at high speed. Holy Week arrived, and I had to come to a skidding halt. I was surprised at how hard that was. Kind of like running into a brick wall, without the black eye. It felt so unnatural to sit in a quiet church or in my room and simply be. Listen. Pray slow prayers. Allow the presence of a greater Presence to infiltrate my conscious mind. My soul.
Easter is here…the day, the season, a way of life. Like springtime, it offers newness, but I have to accept it. Or I might miss it.
In the Eternal now of Supernatural reality, all seasons are present, all the time, on our wonderful and amazing planet. Just like how the sun is always rising and falling every moment of every day.
Yet in a generous benevolence, we are offered linear time, moment by moment, season by season, lifetime by lifetime.
Bread is baking in the oven, and dinner will be ready soon. Before I rush off to feed my kids’ bodies, I am grateful to God, the source of every season, to sit for a few moments and feed my soul the glory of spring.
A. K. Frailey is the author of 17 books, a teacher for 35 years, and a homeschooling mother of 8.
Make the most of life’s journey.
For novels, short stories, poems, and non-fiction inspirational books by A. K. Frailey, check out her Amazon Author Page
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