It’s that time of gold, that liminal space, where the veil is being closed. The new growth, the green gold, is moving in, moving fast. The interstice of the seasons where spring is blossoming and winter is phasing out. It’s a bittersweet time—it’s incredible that this unfolding miracle will soon become commonplace. The wonder I feel at the blossoms and the new leaves breaking out fills me entirely, and I don’t want this time to go. It’s so beautiful that it’s almost painful, and you can’t help to think, as you stare at a creamy white and pink magnolia blossom, that this won’t happen again until next year. A whole year!
Early spring can be a tough time, all the waiting–the drab browns and grays that seem to have a whisper of red and green about them. Then the explosion of green takes place and you are filled with song, and lifted by the feeling that life is suddenly worth living again. The plum tree you thought would die a few years back is now flooded with delicate white flowers. The rhubarb is so robust, hearty crenellated leaves dominating the bare garden. I find seedlings everywhere, finding their way. How effusive it all is! Maybe that is why spring can sometimes lead to a feeling of malaise–perhaps we get anxious at how fleeting this good feeling is. And this year feels particularly fleeting, especially when contrasted with last year’s long cold spring. Do you remember?
We will soon settle down after this roller coaster of feelings from the cold inward world of winter, to the more relaxed outward feeling that spring brings. What is your spring like? What is it like by you? As I look out the window, covered with rain drops, the green is filling in, and I can’t see quite as far as I did just a few days ago. The mottled colors of spring–the reds, pinks, whites and browns–are fading fast, and the green is taking over.