“Spring drew on…and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps.” Charlotte Bronté
March has always felt magical to me. I grew up in New England where winter can be harsh and seem to last forever. Even in March, it was not unusual to have more cold and snowy days during the month than sunny and warm ones. As a child, I would look carefully for signs that the earth was reawakening. Inevitably, the first evidence I always found was in the lovely little crocuses that began to push through the frozen earth. I remember crouching down beside our garden whispering words of encouragement to them and checking every day to measure their progress. When they opened, revealing their sunny yellow center, I believed I had played a part in their tenacious unfurling. My heart sang with their triumph, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before winter became a distant memory.
Here in Georgia, it’s the daffodils that herald Spring’s return. A cluster of them is blooming near my mailbox as I write this, and the same excited anticipation that I had as a child overwhelms me each day as I see their progress. There is a halo of color on most of the trees now, and the birds sing more brightly each morning. Everything in nature points to new possibility and glorious potential.
I’m struck by what a profound teacher Nature can be when we pay attention. So often in life, many of us find ourselves frozen in a metaphorical dark and endless inner winter. Our entire world can even feel that way with its political strife, international violence and unpredictability, but the brave crocus and indomitable daffodil remind us that beauty can conquer even the most barren landscape and that growth is happening even when we cannot see it. We are surrounded by evidence proving that darkness always has and always will give way to light. How fortunate we are to bear witness; how foolish we are to forget!
Below is my homage to my most favorite season. I hope it will inspire you to savor these magical days as much as I do.
When the first halo of color begins to ring the trees
And the days linger a little longer before
drawing the shades on twilight.
All things seem possible.
We quiver like seeds waking beneath the soil,
Sensing the new life long dormant inside,
Longing for sunlight and morning’s misty dawn.
How quickly we forget the long melancholy night of winter.
How fast we flee our dormancy
and sprout tendrils of new potentiality,
unfurling our badges of blooming color,
our rosy radiant belief in our own fertile soil.
How natural to believe in the love of the Master Gardener
who tended us in the dark and dreary days,
who tilled the soil in preparation
for this growing-time.
Turn your faces to the sun
And breathe in the warm and welcoming light of
Fall in love with the scent of leaves curling open,
the sound of birds offering their voices to the sky.
Fall in love with greening glory of your own heart,
With the whisper that is telling you
NOW is the time to for you to blossom.