Seen on My Walk, Part II

Whatever else is happening in our world, it still is spring. And that’s a lovely time to be here. Yesterday I told you who I saw on my Wednesday walk. Today I’ll tell you what I saw: daffodils nodding next to bright early azaleas, plus hyacinths (grape and standard), crocuses, tulips, forsythia, camellias, wild currents, lungwort, white and purple heather, vinca, hellebores, rainbows of primroses, Spanish bluebells, star magnolias, pink magnolias, flowers I’ve forgotten, and flowering trees and bushes whose names I don’t know. The dandelions were making their showy entrance, and I found a few little clovers blooming next to a graveled area. Not to mention the faithful peonies rising up in red clumps and hydrangeas bursting out in new leaves. Obviously, Mother Nature didn’t get the message to stay at home. 

But there was more. There were garden statues and gazing balls, some pink flamingoes, and a cheery banner left over from St. Patrick’s Day. As I rounded the corner at the bottom of a hill, I spotted a bit of color in a rock border. Then another, and another, and... wait a minute: Someone — a child, judging by the looks of it — had painted some of the rocks in gentle spring colors and interspersed them just so.  How delightful! They looked like hidden Easter eggs! It didn’t seem that the rock border could be seen well from the house. I think that the little display was a gift to passersby. It definitely was a gift to me.

Being outdoors is a balm for my soul these days. Just hearing the birds and seeing the sky lifts my spirits. But it’s the return of spring flowers that speaks to me most right now. The bursts of color give me hope, and just seeing something as normal as perennial flowers helps me feel a sense of normalcy, too. Is it that way for you? It is for one of my favorite writers, Margaret Renkl. You might not know her name but you probably have read her essays and op-ed pieces in the New York Times. Her 2019 book of essays, Late Migrations: A Natural History of Love and Loss, is a treasure. Don’t be put off by the subtitle; this is not a sad or depressing collection by any stretch, and spring is the perfect time to read it. THIS spring, in particular.

For now, put your feet up, if you can, and relax into her latest essay, "The Beautiful World Beside the Broken One.” Her writing sings. Margaret Renkl brings nature to life on the page here: Margaret Renkl Nature Op-Ed

And if it’s color you want, take a look at this charming photo:

                                    (Photo credit: Leslie Crowder)

Does it remind you of anything?   

Thank you, Leslie, for sharing the terrific photo you took in a Cuban market. You’re right: it reminds me of Ruthie’s painting, too.

In this dark time I am grateful that we can still live in color, and that the days are getting lighter and longer. Until tomorrow, I hope that your day is filled with light and color, and that hope sits right on your shoulder.

Be well.

Love,
Nancie/Mom/Mimi/Grandma

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