03.20.22

“…every year one day comes when, although there is no obvious change in the appearance of trees and hedges, the Earth seems to breathe and it is spring.”–Elizabeth Clarke, The Darkening Green

We’ve heard and seen the robins in the past week or so, and the House Finch is a new bird song I picked up on my Merlin app the other day, bringing the total to four new birds so far. Ice has melted from most of the ponds and the returning pair of Canada geese are patiently standing on Johnson’s Pond, confident it will melt in time for their nesting. The full Worm Moon has been as big and bright as was the Harvest Moon. The trees and hedges are seemingly invisible in waking up, but we have come to that point, anyway, where there is equal day and night.

We flew to California to see our families early in this month! It was so wonderful to be with them all and a tonic for the soul during these final dreary days of winter here in Montana. The California sunshine was splendid and to be part of their lives for even a week just filled our hearts. There are several week-ends this spring in which the Billings family will be coming through town, and a trip together in Coeur d’Alene to celebrate May birthdays and to watch Anna’s soccer tournament. It feels like a coming out from a long hibernation for me and and involves brave testing of the water a bit, after hiding out from Covid. All this moving on in life feels so tentative with Ukrainians hiding out in bomb shelters from the constant Russian bombing. And can anyone truly breathe freely with Covid mutations a constant fear. But, the seasons change.

Even our weather forecast is looking up. From today’s local report:

“For the first time in quite a while, I can happily inform you that every day during the week next week looks to be mostly sunny to clear. Next week is shaping up to be an incredible week to get outdoors and explore so many of the unique blessings that the treasure state has to offer.”

Yes, the Earth is becoming spring once again. It always happens, but the older I get, the more important it is to recognize how beautiful that is, in spite of all that is not beautiful in the world. Holding it all at the same time is oh so hard. It always has been and always will be, and somehow we must see the lovely world.

“My favorite lines of Charlotte’s Web, the lines that always make me cry, are toward the end of the book. They go like this: ‘These autumn days will shorten and grow cold. The leaves will shake loose from the trees and fall. Christmas will come, then the snows of winter. You will live to enjoy the beauty of the frozen world, for you mean a great deal to Zuckerman and he will not harm you, ever. Winter will pass, the days will lengthen, the ice will melt in the pasture pond. The song sparrow will return and sing, the frogs will awake, the warm wind will blow again. All these sights and sounds and smells will be yours to enjoy, Wilbur — this lovely world, these precious days …’ –Linda Tippets, OnBeing.