There is something in the air that comes along in early springtime that leaves such a bright taste in my mouth. As if the winds are meant to prod awake all of the sleeping green, I catch the spell and can't seem to sit still until well into Autumn. What comes along with that, I think, is the very conscious awareness of growth. As we watch strong shoots find their way through the dead leaves and gaudy blossoms pull down the branches of trees and bushes and stems with their grace, it's difficult not to think of growing. Indoors, souls that may have sat silent through a quiet, stern winter shake off their melancholy and, with a thorough prayer for a time to be pensive, throw open the door once again.
We are blessed with passion that waxes and wanes, with the ability to sit still and reach within but also to jump upright and grab hold of the world beyond. Where we're at now, it feels good to get lost in such a vastness, brimming with beauty. With each passing day, I watch as my son falls in love with the rest of the world.
Gabriel and I seem to have caught the fever this month, and are happily eating up most of these warming days. Breaking in a new bicycle, eating as many meals as possible picnic-style, digging out the sidewalk chalk, and concocting wild plans for birdhouses - we have most certainly used the gift of more daylight to our advantage. And for now, the light will only continue to grow, as we will.
