I have seen the forsythia planted for my 2nd Dad, my father-in-law Mike bloom like a beautiful explosion of sunny yellow. It was gloomy and cold and we even had snow flurries but the yellow burst through the solemn skies of grey and clouds to shout that the winter was on its way out.
Today my bleeding hearts are lifting their beautiful pink and red heads up to see the bright sun against a crystal, sparking blue sky. They are among the first shoots out of the ground announcing spring's arrival and they are tall and proud now with beautiful blooms.
My redbud tree is full and glorious. This year seems to proclaim that it is a fixture of lush, bright pink blossoming in the yard remarking that new growth is here.
The violets that I scavenged from my Grandmother's yard so many years ago, and dropped into the ground hoping for a legacy, are all over my space in little patches of white and purple firmly claiming their own legacy in my home and providing new plants for me to share with sorority daughters who knew the purple violet to be their signature bloom.
My pussywillow trees, the ones I paid $5 at the hardware store and hoped and prayed would give me fuzzy little feet growing from branches are full and proud.
The allium bulbs, the spring beauty bulbs, are all up and out. The crocus have long come and gone and in their place are the hosta plants and phlox springing up. The peonies seem to grow INCHES each day!
The grass is green and lush and is ready for cutting already.
My wind chime is singing in the cool breeze of early May, filling me with deep tones that announce more patio days to come when the tune will softly play a song to nap to on the patio couch.
My mother's lilies of the valley are up and tiny blossoms promise a legacy from the house I grew up in that I work so hard to continue here. Each year for the last 10 years since I planted the few and prayed over them, asking Mom to continue her legacy, they have struggled to stay. This year looks good.
The heady scent of the lilacs can be drawn in from the front porch 126 feet away like a sweet blanket that hovers over the front yard. Soon I will cut blooms and bring that smell inside to fill the house with the love of my space.
And soon we will hang the string lights shaped like hot air balloons all over the yard stretching from tree to tree and plant the pots for the patio and yard.
Soon there will be movies on the back of the garage in the moon light with piñon wood burning in the chimnea or music to sing to as we share pitchers of sangria or a cold beer from the cooler on the deck.
Rowing season is open and I am dedicated to giving it to myself this year, improving and enjoying it. The last two summers have been emotionally dedicated to tough situations now behind me. I want to truly enjoy this sport I love.
It was easy and hard this winter... easy that it was a tolerable weather season and we were blessed to travel more than once to warmer climates. Easy in sharing evenings in front of the fire with the pups and bottles of wine loving each other watching movies and being peaceful.
Hard in missing two pups that have left us in the last 18 months and feeling their love still here, their presence no longer a part of the physical group. Their spirits always around as they sit up on the shelf now in a different form.
But I am so very grateful. This is my very favorite time of year. Rebirth. Renewal. Reconnection. And I will breathe in every day the sweet air of the flowers, the blooming trees, the grass beneath my feet. Their sleep is over as is mine. Time to rejoice in the beauty of spring.
Here we go <3
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