It's Thursday. I'm on my third cuppa coffee, my mood tangled somewhere between exhaustion and apathy. I suppose I'll perk up after I fill the bird feeders and go for a brisk walk while the north wind tries to push me around. Or maybe I'll just creep upstairs on my lunch and hide under the covers for 45 minutes.
This time of year is always a mixed bag of emotions for me.
Spring is such a delightful season, full of little joys: violets peep from their hiding places in the grass, plump buds adorn the trees, rhubarb's wrinkly nubs appear, birdsong fills the air, chocolate cake and presents are pending. But around the corner from my birthday come sad reminders: Rose's birth, and my mother's death. And then joy hits me again with Jade's birthday, lilacs and apple blossoms, spring rain and the music of frogs and crickets.
Isn't that just life all over though? A heady mix of exhilaration and despair, small moments of beauty and ugliness, unremarkable days and thrilling nights? Never boring, this life of mine. Never a rose without a thorn, or a thorn without a rose.
1 comment:
Wisely and perfectly said, sistah.
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