Jan 16 2008
Signs of Spring
When my youngest daughter was a toddler we used to lie in bed in the morning and just listen to the birds as they began their days with sweet songs. There was a bushy tree right outside my bedroom window that dozens of little tiny birds called home, so it was like having front row for an avian symphony. At first it was a trick on my part to get a few more minutes in bed before I had to start my own day, but it soon grew into a beloved part of our morning routine. When we moved from that house and she began to sleep in her own bed (we co-slept until then) this ritual was tucked into the sweet memories file. Years have past since those days, but it just takes a few chirps to take me back to those magic mornings.
Sunday morning she came bounding into our bedroom full of excitement proclaiming “The birds are back! I hear them everywhere!” Still half asleep and a bit on the grumpy side, I grumbled as I rolled over and pulled the covers up over my head. The sun was barely up yet and I was not about to join it. And besides – its only January and even though the plum tree in the neighbors yard is bursting with fresh blossoms it is too early for them to be back. But then I heard it. At first it was just one or two and then a few more joined in. Soon the air was filled with their busy chatter, and a rush of all the love and memories of those days that seem so distant flooded through me. She was too young then to remember our special mornings now, and when I suggested we lie quietly and listen for a few minutes she told me she could hear them just fine up and bouncing around the room. Ah well, I tried. She may not remember those days, and she might be sharp enough not to be fooled by my ploys, but something inside of her knows that the birds returning is something to be celebrated.
The past weeks have been particularly difficult for me physically and emotionally with my fibro being at a crisis level. The long dark days of winter have seemed even more heavy and ominous than normal. But today as hear the birds busily chirping and feasting on the worms who were forced above ground with yesterdays rain, I am reminded of the constant turning of the wheel of life and the restorative power of nature. It gives me hope and today that is something I am deeply grateful for.
