God passes through the thicket of the world,
and wherever his glance falls he turns all things
to beauty. St. John of the Cross
Monday morning and the sky is overcast after three lovely sun-filled days––like a semi-colon in spring. I suppose that the spring has passed and we are in early summer, but I love spring so much, I cling to it.
Birds are busy at the feeders, singing, and building nests. The barn swallows have already finished their new homes under the eaves of the porch.
Monday morning and a light rain is dripping from the roof and trees. There are rain drops beaded up on the iris leaves and the faces of my roses.
May has arrived and the whole world has turned violently green––shockingly green––startlingly green. To look back in my mind and winter’s leafless trees and the brown lifeless grass seems unreal––could they have been?
My coffee is strong and hot and dark. It is like sipping muscle––cured my morning headache and wakes me from the night’s hold.
Hugs and “I love you, Mama.” from my children this weekend has lifted my soul. So often the house feels empty without these people whom I have held so close for the years. It does me good when they come home and hug me.