Vivaldi's Four Seasons - Spring playing, and in the early morning light they are skipping and leaping over groaning old floorboards. I'm sitting here, sipping my coffee and drinking them up. In this 100 year old house, how many other children frolicked these floors? How many other Mamas looked on, sadness and joy mixing together in a cocktail of life goes on...and on and on.
Every day the view from the kitchen window becomes greener, more lush. Rain streams uninterrupted down the side of the house, distorting the image into one greenish brown smudge. Kids pull on galoshes and come back in with pants soaked to the waist. I enhale them as they come in the door, smelling of dirt and life, fresh air and possibilities.
Yes, Springtime is my very favorite. The world changes in the middle of Lent, as though reminding us of a time when a curtain tore and life as we know it turned upside down - a time when things began to mean something.
A seed planted to grow up and die. People who came from dirt, working the dirt, returning to dirt. Spring reminds me that there is a natural order to things, and how Someone spectacular came around to turn it all on its head.
As we look toward the end of Lent, I'm held amazed at the drastic show of impenetrable love that played out all those years ago. I towel off sopping wet children and look into faces and can hardly control the thrill of excitement and happiness. There is a reason. A whole world made new.
Yes. Spring.
This is beautiful.
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