To Every Thing There Is a Season

Spring is slow in the Midwest, at least compared to the coasts in my opinion. Every year I see beautiful images of flowering cherry blossoms on the East coast and flowers from the West weeks before postings of Spring arrive here. And about this same time each year, I head to my local garden store, if only to smell the flowers nurtured inside, scents protected from cold evenings that still regularly occur. The first sunny weekend, neighbors begin to clean up yards, mowers are started and I, too, begin to remove Nature’s floral padding (fallen leaves I didn’t rake last Fall) from the perennials trying to show their heads around the house.

This weekend was such a weekend. It came after a violent weather week for a few nearby towns in Illinois now dealing with the aftermath of tornadoes that tore away homes and wiped out one town – serious Nature way too close for comfort. This fine weather was especially welcome.

It was early inside the shop, early in the season. The center had just begun to plant some staples that will by Mother’s Day weekend sell out. Still it was a glorious reminder of hope and optimism, something scarce these days – hope for more beautiful weather and optimism gained from experiencing the Seasons. Spring reminds us we are part of something bigger, that our struggles will end, and that we are part of a process … an evolution… started long before us and which will be around long after. Ah, “To every thing there is a season.” Spring is here. Glorious Spring.

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