just last week, the flowers in our front yard looked like this:
like they were crying. covered in their own wet tears, and shivering for spring, death seemed inevitable for these heralds of warmth.
ah, but i underestimated the hopeful power of nature. they didn't give up. despite being literally dragged down by the weight of winter, they held their heads high, and persevered. and their beauty is even more potent for it, now that the sun is shining again.
i'm not much of a flower guy. i struggle to tell the difference between a daisy and a daffodil, but the one thing that i can't deny loving about flowers is the whole panoply of color. and never is that more utterly breathtaking than early in spring, when these amazing sentinels rebel against winter's icy deathgrip, and burst from their buried tombs into resurrected life. the deep purples and vibrant yellows are a beautiful risk, an extravagant display of hope.
and so, while spring continues its lion-to-lamb spar with winter, i am taking my cue from the flowers. i will dare to believe, even if our forecast says rain and snow for later this week. it doesn't even matter. the color keeps coming; the life keeps being born again,
and i'll keep holding to hope.