SPRING!

March 27^th, 2016

Grace DeWolf

It is Easter Sunday, and I sit in a chair in my backyard, relaxing. All about me, the world is in motion. Wisps of cotton clouds glide past only to dissipate in the sky, as if they have succumbed to the spirit of Spring. It's breezy. The insects in the air dance, or flutter, or streak as I stare up the hill. Looking to the west, I can only see one roof-line and the top of the water tank near the Easter cross. This is my slice of California on this day.

Grace DeWolf

Every creature that flies catches the sun and gleams white. Even the crows, as they dip a wing, seem white. The birds sing. The crows caw.

My pear and apple tree blossom. The forget-me-nots have a profusion of light blue flowers. The lithadora too. The pineapple sage shows bright, pinkish red flowers. Up the hill the trees sway and the sun dapples the leaves or needles. A half-mile down the road, the deer may be lying in the tall grass, their ears twinkling above the greenery.

This is a day of the rebirth of the Son of Man for Christians. Despite this, I sense the reawakening of God. It is hard to take on any grief this day. 
The world is too alive to feel disappointment or depression.

Spring is just this—a rebirth of hope.

 season, turn, turn, turn.

And a time to every purpose under heaven.
A time to be born, a time to die.
A time to plant, a time to reap.
A time to kill, a time to heal.
A time to laugh, a time to weep.

Again I don't want to make this about religion, but Ecclesiastes is apt here. If you seek a less religious take on Spring, remember Turn! Turn! Turn! by the Byrds, their folk-rock rendition Ecclesiastes.

To everything, turn, turn, turn.
There is a season, turn, turn, turn.
And a time to every purpose under heaven.
A time to build up, a time to break down.
A time to dance, a time to mourn.
A time to cast away stones.
A time to gather stones together.

Grace DeWolf

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There is poem about Spring that I love. It is by ee cummings.

[in Just-]

in Just-

spring          when the world is mud-

luscious the little

lame balloonman

whistles          far          and wee

Cathy DeWolf

and eddieandbill come

running from marbles and

piracies and it's

spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer

old balloonman whistles

far          and             wee

and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's

spring

and

         the

                  goat-footed

balloonMan          whistles

far

and

wee

I'm quite sure I can't improve on this. So I will end, with this: It's Spring. A time of rebirth. The world is in the midst of reawakening. Join in.

FC.

Photo Grace DeWolf