My son has been calling it Sprinter: the spring that thinks it’s winter. Around here, it’s been snowstorms or rain almost every weekend and sometimes in between, all of it with what seems like a three mile thick layer of gray clouds overhead. I actually started writing down and timing when the sun came out each day, and the average duration was about 10 minutes of blue skies before it vanished again.
We have two cherry trees in our backyard. One has been covered with blossoms and the other seemed barren. (My son has been cheerfully tapping the snow off them after every storm in an attempt to be sure we can save all the branches.) We take for granted the apparent health of one and worry about the other. Imagine my delight when I found the first sign of new growth on the seemingly struggling cherry tree.
When the first hints of green were followed by lovely white blossoms, I had to capture the magic of it all.
My tree reminded me of one of life’s lessons: everyone blooms in their own way and at their own time. We have two trees, growing side by side in the same yard, and yet they each blossom on their own schedule. People are like that. Children are like that.
I guess the magic comes when we learn to notice and appreciate the signs of growth in ourselves and others. And be prepared to celebrate the blossoms whenever they come, having hope and faith that they will appear.
Where I live, it will go from cold to hot in a couple of weeks, with only a fleeting taste of perfect spring temperatures. I guess I’ve got to just enjoy it while we’ve got it.