Dead Things Finding Life

Three weeks away allows for a clear study of the changing seasons. When you live in it, the gradual evolution can blind you for weeks until it suddenly overtakes you. But now I have a unique opportunity to look at this world with fresh eyes.

I have a secret to tell you. Spring isn't beautiful from the start.

At first it is simply a lack of snow.

I woke up to a gray morning. The streets are bare. The grass is bare. The trees are bare. There is a thin layer of glistening moisture everywhere and I know it has rained. I look at the thermostat that reads 43 and suddenly the picture out my window is extremely beautiful. It's funny how temperature can do that.

The soil is brown. The grass is still brown. And a few dead leaves still cling to the tree from last fall, like waxy paper bags that have somehow survived the winter. I watch the puddle on our back patio to see the invisible falling drops of rain-so slow and spread out that I can barely tell it is sprinkling. And then a sudden burst from the sky and it is raining everywhere-just for twenty seconds or so.

Spring. It is not inherently beautiful right now. It appears much the same as a snowless winter.

But to the keen observer, there is so much more beneath the surface. My eyes, tirelessly tracing the outdoor world begin to notice things: a faint green moss growing on the neighbor's tree, small sprouts coming up in my  mother's back garden, and is the grass a little bit greener than it was over winter?

The world outside is still rather dead and damp. But to me it is beautiful. Because it is full of promise. For I know that the absence of snow, and the absence of frozen ground means the beginning of growth. I've seen Idaho in spring once before. Everything is green and lush and flowers spring forth from the ground wherever they have room to grow. I know that is all coming. It is just the beginning. My heart grows excited and wants to speed up time. But as my brother said, Idaho is in the wee hours before the dawn of the year. It does remind me of the chilly dawn before the sun rises on a beautiful day.

But this is all a new lesson for me: even spring begins in the cold, dirt. So I take heart.