Looking out my window just now- at the mostly barren woods, I can just make out “ideas” of green. Of renewal. Of the coming of Spring.
Looking out a different window, I see a definite sign of renewal. At the end of the drive is a bank of yellow. Forsythia. And nearby, daffodils.
Closer to the house there is the sight of purple, of lavender. THE lilac.
All signs that what has been slumbering through the winter, is awakening. Rebirth.
May Sarton, in her poem Blizzard, says “Hard to imagine daffodils…in this nowhere landscape..”; and saying further, “this very field, changed utterly, with hosts of daffodils to show..”. Indeed, what has been unseen is now seen.
Now in the midst of the Season of Lent, I’m aware of deepening down, of anticipation, of a kind of personal barren time.
In a sense, I have been beneath the ground, and just lately preparing for the Spring of my soul. Buffered about in the past twelve months, I’m a work in progress toward my “blooming”,
Tybee Time calls once again. This will be the fourteenth Lenten journey to Tybee. Rest and reflection up ahead. And renewal.