It happens every year. As the snow melts away I begin to watch the trees for those tiny bumps protruding as heralds of the leaves that will dance upon the branches. Today in watching the birds I almost missed how the leaf buds have grown more pronounced, ready to burst into green. The birds seek to hide in the branches, proud brown feathers against a palette of similar tones. The garden is filled with their singing.
My eyes search the garden for colour and focus upon the still bright red shriveled berries left from the winter and fall just past. I love the brightness of the promise of seedlings and food for the birds to hold them as they wait for the new spring growth. What will happen when the new leaves come and fresh berries grow on the branches? Will these simply fall to nourish the earth?
I look down and see the green and reddish fronds of perennial bulbs pushing up out of the soil. I walk the path along the garden’s edge seeing the patches of green spears slicing upward. Memories of other years fill my mind with the delight spectres of colour even though so much of the garden is still in shades of brown I am filled with joy at the anticipation of things to come.
And then I see it! There, almost hidden in its petite-ness, a touch of purple glimmers. It is the first flower of the season opening to the sun despite the still cool briskness of the air. I am delighted at this gift of colour, awed by its contrasting brilliance against the bed of dried memories of what was. It stands as a promise for me. Spring has come. Another year of resurrection has begun.
My mindful gift for today is new growth.