For Mama Kat I am exploring spring in my backyard.
There is so much promise in my backyard these days. Signs of spring are all around and they remind me of some of life’s most basic truths.
The rose bushes are filled with buds just beginning to open. The yellow ones remind me that while the buds themselves are lovely it is not until the rose is fully open and mature that it reaches its full beauty. Our culture may worship youth but there is a beauty all its own that comes with age.
The pink roses were a Mother’s Day gift from my children years ago when they were still small. The blooming rose surrounded by little buds make a pretty picture representing family their beauty increased by their closeness.
The red rose buds cover the bush more profusely than ever before. I have been watching them for weeks. They make me realize that anticipation is sometimes as wonderful as the actual thing.
The cherries remind me not to take life for granted. Last year the cherry tree was loaded with potential in the form of big, round cherries. I dreamed of pies, crisps and jams. Just weeks before I planned to harvest the cheerful red fruit we had a hail storm of historic proportions. Hail the size of baseballs pounded our home, our cars and our fruit trees. The cherry tree took the brunt of the storm which left enough sweet red fruit for exactly one pie. This year I hope for pies, crisps and jam; and if I am lucky enough to see my hopes materialize I will be more grateful than I would have been last year.
The apples remind me that life goes on. Apples were present in the very first garden and they are present in gardens today. I am hopeful this fall might find me making a batch of the apple sauce with cinnamon red hots for my children that their grandmother once made for their father.
The sweetness of the peaches reminds me that I have all that I need and then some. At the end of summer I will bite into a pretty peachy orb and juice will run down my arm. Goodness overflows in my life.
The hard ball that will become a peony is living proof that while it may be safer to keep yourself closed off it is not until you open yourself up and allow your vulnerable, softer side to show that you are at your most beautiful.
Finally new growth is budding on the oak tree that we transplanted. This little oak was planted by a squirrel hiding his acorn for another day. His loss was our gain as a pretty little tree sprouted and grew. Last fall we moved the tree which had grown to about ten feet tall to a better spot in the yard. We babied it through the fall and again this spring uncertain if it would tolerate the move. Just last week we saw what we had been hoping to see, new growth. The little oak reassures me even if the world as I know it should change I can still grow and blossom and reacclimate myself to my new reality.
Happy Spring. Happy Life!