I arise from bed and peer through the raindrops on my window. I notice the sun is rising earlier, buzzing bees are already planning parties on the fast blooming pear trees, and waking to a frosty windowpane is becoming a distant memory. I am witnessing spring, the season of new growth, flourish around every bend.
Embracing a steamy cup of coffee, I stroll outside to the backyard and behold the new season bursting forth. The earthy smell of rain, soil and grass tickle my nose. Inhaling the damp air, I catch a waft of wild onions that begin to peek from their winter hibernation. The golden Daffodils on the outskirts of the woods trumpet their powerfully sweet aroma toward the heavens. I can’t remember a season welcoming me so magnificently.
I promenade to the wooden garden swing that I haven’t visited in several months. It forgives my neglect and beckons me to settle back on its solid stern. The seat is wet, but I don’t mind. With nothing pressing on the schedule today, I decide to just lean back and drink in the beauteous moments of my solitude with nature. How long has it been since I’ve just sat?
The white fluffy clouds aren’t the only evidence of the morning showers I slept through. The water drops still glisten on the newly leafing plum trees, and the iris flags sip up the fresh cool rain to ready themselves for their debut. The glimmering growth before me is displayed as an artist’s painting. Even the puddles of mud share their place in the divine canvas of spring.
I watch and listen to the whispering hints of change. Geese are honking, woodpeckers are drumming, and yellow jackets are humming. The burgeoning Maple trees stretch out their branches in praise as the songbirds practice their spring chorus. I yearn no longer for springtime, for it is here.
The swelling dogwood buds stir my thoughts to the majesty of its symbolic flowers. As I look around at this glorious world that God created, the prelude of colors, sounds, and smells of the season remind me of the new beginning I’m given every day. Yesterday is becoming a memory, but as each day unfolds, the fresh dawn allows me to bloom and grow.
How about you?
What beauty did you awake to this lovely March morning?