It has been a wretched week of weather here in upstate NY. The spring vacation felt more like fall with snow flurries, gray skies, and damp-dank-cold days. This was the week of spring vacation and many fled to warmer climates. Those of us who stayed behind wondered what on earth was going on. Where was spring? For many, the promise of Easter lingered as the culminating event of the week, but the world was experiencing more and more violence... human and earthly. More tornadoes, more earth tremors, more wars. The promise of Easter?
Ah me, it all weighed heavily on me, I can tell you.
But grace moves gently in the garden. My watchful eye patiently awaits.... the flowers, the birds, the warming of the soil. Grateful, am I, to be very "not busy"; I can sit and look out the window. I am free to stop the movement, listen, gaze. It is grace that turns the male goldfinches feathers from muddy yellow to brilliant gold. The rose finches are slowly all-of-a-sudden aflame! The sun springs out from behind the clouds to warm my shoulder for a moment, and the daffodil's open. The chickens are out no matter what the weather, happy to be freed from their winter coop. They are good teachers; be here now and enjoy the day! The wild turkeys are wandering the fields, out in the open. It is that time of year.
But, where are the blue birds who nested right beside the house last year to my great delight? Where are they? Where are they? I am in conversation with my dear friend with just that very question..... and, grace moved my eye gently over to the west, there. And they WERE there. Right there at their birdhouse. The joy to see them was overwhelmingly gentle and rich. They don't hang around long, but they come back, and go, and come back. And go.
It's this quiet unfolding of things as they are that nourishes me these days. The real spring will be here soon enough, and activities will intensify. Today, I am content to witness the unfolding of lilac leaves, the courting of birds, and the growing of grass. This gentle grace is good.
