There are times I wish I could hibernate like the chipmunks. Those times are called Winter. I know many people love the brutal brumal season - but part of me drifts off to slumber with the bleak, cold, somnolent, natural world.
I don't even reside where the Winter is harsh. It's not the snow; that's pretty! Besides, here in the South snow signals a play day. No slogging to work over slushy roads or slipping on icy sidewalks here.
It's the dreary absence of greenery and visible life that brings on this seasonal torpor.
That is why I love what I love about Spring. Verdant Spring. The wakening world around me rouses and blinks. The warming sun resuscitates nature as she breathes and pulses anew with life. Vitality is restored to our surrounding woods and fields. The trees are atwitter with avian friends marrying and home-making.
Creation reveals the full pallate of the Artist, stroke by stroke. First the daffodils emerge, trumpeting, "Wake up! The time has arrived!"
Looking down, the greening ground unsheaths individual blades, answering the call of rain and sun. Clover waves its resemblence to its triune Creator.
The green swath becomes the canvas sky on which tiny stars are painted.
The green swath becomes the canvas sky on which tiny stars are painted.
And firework thistles explode.
The silent earth, thawing, releases a choir of peepers, hidden in the wetland.
Puddle ducks dabble in the abundant mud.
Marshy streams of sky on earth reflect the sun-blue heavens above.
Looking up, trees stretch their empty limbs toward the brightening, scattering clouds.
Sap rises. Limbs limber, warm up, and sprout!
Finger branches tingle with bursting life. The return of the leaves!
And my little neighbor wakes to come celebrate with me once again.
Happy Spring, my small friend!
All photos and words by Susannah Pearce
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