Tag Archives: spring

Hope Springs Eternal

People often ask why I like the East coast so much more than the West coast where I grew up, and I would have to say that experiencing the seasons is one of the things I love best of all.

Forsythia; one of the first flowers of Spring

Living in New England for the past 30 years has attuned me to the rhythm of life in a way I had never understood before, and learning to enjoy each season for its unique blessings and challenges, is a good way to create harmony between us and the natural world.  

Pussy Willow

Being part of the changing circle of creation, forces us out of our everydayness into something flowing and alive. Just when we have reached our limit of cold winter days, the warm tendrils of Spring make their way across the land into our hearts, whispering softly of its promised arrival.

Like the finest of connoisseurs, I can feel it coming from miles away. Waking up from our long slumber, siblings to the trees, bodies stretching up towards the sun, we arrive, rejoicing in our eternal story.

Experiencing both moments of hardship and joy, brought to us on the winds of each new season, strengthens our resolve to live fully and with gratitude, knowing underneath the fertile soil are the miraculous stirrings of new beginnings, wonders never cease.

Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall; each an opportunity to celebrate the gifts from Mother Earth, and to release any lingering shadows held far too long, inspiring healing choices of forgiveness and love.

The symphony of birds outside my window every morning sing to me of dreams created during long winter nights. Heralding its arrival, robins sent out as tiny ambassadors announce the brightness of a new day.

Every season different, from beginning to end, renews our spirit, offering us a chance to grow and adjust our path. Though the days of time move in a continuous circle, our footsteps, if we desire, never having to be the same. 

Spring is in full bloom here in New England, and has been for a couple of weeks. The tulips and daffodils are lovely and already the magnolia blossoms are losing their petals, yet their sweet fragrance fills the air.

A dogwood tree in my front yard has started flowering, and each day on my walk I see something wondrous. Soon baby geese will paddle gently behind their parents on the lake, and I will take great pleasure in spying bunnies nibbling on clover during my morning walk.

Dogwood tree blossoms

Already the young crows are exploring, their voices loud overhead as they call to each other through the trees; under the fullness of the moon I hear the frogs sing across the water, and just today I saw my first butterfly, it’s wings softly painted white.

The arrival of this particular Spring has gently nudged me out from under the umbrella of melancholy I have long sheltered beneath, and into the cleansing rain of a new season.

“Life is brief and very fragile, do that which makes you happy,” is a quote I saved as a teenager. I made it into a collage which I brought with me when I moved here from California over 3 decades ago. I have it hung in my room as a daily reminder.

Despite my uncertainty in the unknown future, I am determined to remain open to all the beautiful possibilities life has to offer. The magic of each season holds a special message for everyone of us, if only we are willing to listen.

Drip-drop, ribbit-croak, nibble-hop, waddle-paddle, blossom-grow, flutter-fly, caw-caw

In Springy Peace, Happy first day of May!

Raven 

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Wake Up, Wake Up, Wake Up

Welcome dear world to the days of March. Time has inevitably moved on, reminding us how puny we are in the face of a living, breathing universe. I woke up sometime before dawn, only to realize just how close we in the Northern Hemisphere are to the end of winter; the subtle signs of an awakening spring have been minutely revealing themselves and softly proclaiming the season’s coming arrival.

Photo by Sydney Troxell on Pexels.com

I have been hearing it in the drip-drip-drop of the snow, and in the blustering of cleansing winds outside my window; I have felt it in the heart of night, with my blankets kicked to the side their weighted heaviness no longer needed for my comfort; I have tasted it in the sweetness of pure maple syrup on my lips, and yesterday I saw it in the flight of a family of bluebirds that I startled from a hedge of Juniper as I walked by.

Photo by Tina Nord on Pexels.com

Fluttering in unison into the branches of a nearby tree, dressed in celestial feathers, they watched as I stealthily moved close to take their picture–too late–by the time I had fumbled my cell phone into position, with my glasses perched precariously on my face, they nodded their little heads with excitement and quickly flew away.

In the darkness of shifting light, I lie here in my bed and watch the sun rise. I am not quite ready for winter to be over: I still crave the cover of ice and snow to muffle the sounds of the world. It’s been easy to stay quiet, hidden away from the hustle and bustle of what friendly weather will surely bring. Everything will change with the warmth of the sun, and I will be compelled, like the black bears of the forest, to leave the shelter of my cozy den.

Wake up, wake up, wake up. It’s time to rub the sleep from my eyes, and I am not ready.

The dream-time magic of winter can’t last forever, and soon the aura of my surroundings will be transformed from the misty hues of silvery grays and sparkling whites, into a wild symphony of unavoidable brilliancy in every color.

And I, withdrawn and curled up in the deepest of waking-slumber, must stumble out from the shadows of myself, and face the coming light.

Wake up, wake up, wake up. It’s time to rub the sleep from my eyes, and I am not ready.

In Misty Colored Peace, Raven

Cloak of Leaves

 We all wear changing cloaks as we walk through life, protecting us from what is not comfortable, hiding vulnerabilities, while also expressing the beauty of how we want to be seen. Only when we are able to stand before friends and loved ones, even our perceived enemies, uncovered without armor, do we reflect the truth of what really lies within.

photo by Deven, Maine Woods

Trees have always been sacred to me. Something about their graceful strength fills my heart with a sense of eternity. Many times have I smoothed my hand over the rough bark just to feel the vibration of their songs echo through my soul.

Winter is here, and I am happy to hibernate for as long as I can while still enjoying the great outdoors. I love this time of quiet solitude, when most people are hidden away in their homes. I try to walk every day, not just for the health of my body, but to be refreshed by the beauty of nature. I have several trees I stop to visit with along the way. They tell me how nice it is to trust the rhythm of our earth, and how tranquil it is to feel the gentle scrolling of passing time, from the earliest of morning rays, into the darkness of setting night.

When I moved here to New England, a lifetime ago, it was in late Autumn. The trees that had been so lush when I visited one summer as a teen, now stood naked and unadorned. Coming from Southern California, I was unused to seeing trees without leaves, and in their starkness I felt such loss.


 A wise friend of mine who has been my spiritual mentor for several decades helped me to see through different eyes. I will always remember the comfort of her words;

This is when they are most beautiful. Each tree stripped down to bare bones, no longer hiding behind a cloak of leaves, revealing their soul essence.

Seeing them this way now brings me such joy. I appreciate my winter walks so much more for being able to view their divinity from my new perspective. I count myself lucky for each and every moment that I get to spend in their healing presence.

photo by Deven, along the beach in Maine

As I saunter through neighborhood streets, and forests far and wide, trees of every size surround me wherever I go. The lines and curves of each branch outline my path, creating sculptures against the sky. I may not always know their names, but they are my dearest companions.

With Spring still many miles up the road, and then suddenly just around the corner, I will be ready when it arrives to enjoy one of my favorite sights: newly sprouted leaves, vivid and bright, magically coloring the canvas of our world. No matter how many times I witness the blooming of creation, I am amazed how miraculous the birth of a leaf can be.

Photo by Math on Pexels.com

Life constantly gives us a chance to clothe ourselves in something brand new, opening our eyes and waking us up to possibilities.  Like the trees we are able to shed what no longer brings substance. Gazing inward, we let go and allow the ever flowing beauty of transformation to begin. Only in the coldness of winter, with our roots digging deep into the earth, are we able to feel the warmth of the sun gently nudging us awake.

Having lost my leaves before the solstice, I will be ready when the light of spring returns to clothe myself once again into something beautifully my own. Vulnerable, yet protected in my bareness, I am grateful for this time of drowsy slumber, knowing my new leafy cloak will fully express the sacredness of all that I have grown into, and will also soon become.  

Trusting, I lift my branches high up to the sun, confident my new leaves will symbolize everything that is right and perfect for me.

In Beauty May We Grow~ Raven 

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