In the deep-quiet of winter, nature’s keeper tip-toes into creation’s inner chamber, gingerly setting its springtime alarm. At a perfectly appointed time, the ethereal bell ‘tings’…rousing creation into it’s bright, new morning. Spring peepers rub sleep from their eyes and crawl onto the sun warmed banks of Cottage Creek. Insistent, rhythmic croaks resound in chorus, while blooms of purple and blue rise above the crumbling remains of a season past. Grasses spike green toward the sky, as buds on branches burst new life. Flashes of blue wings and red breasts dart to and fro, seeking the very best niche in which to raise an anticipated brood.
It is during the stark days of winter, as we quietly lie buried under the crackling debris of seasons-past, that memories of failed attempts threaten hopes and dreams for the future. But then comes Spring! Right in the nick of time.
We are beguiled by the expectant bustle around nature’s awakening, wholly moved by its confident preparation for what is to come. And as nature’s past melts into new possibility, we are reminded to hold tightly to the promise of hopeful, new beginnings.
Life is carried on the wings of hope!
So…on this blissful day of early springtime, we bid farewell to the dried up remnants of the past, as the winds of change sweep away the old, making way for the new.
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