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I love Spring. It is such a time of beauty and renewal, like waking up after a just-right sleep. The rains refresh and wash clean. Spring, with all its scents and sounds, is a herald of hope.
Not all Springs look the same, though, especially in my beloved Colorado. Some Springs skip in wearing a garland of warm, sunny days. Other Springs blow in with an impatient huff. Some Springs come as you'd expect, with bright blooms and cheery songbirds. Other Springs are what you least expect, piling 3 feet of snow on top of your daffodils.
One thing is certain in springtime: change.
The changes may be as bold and stirring as the riot of color in a bed of tulips or the heady fragrance of a fruit tree in full bloom. Or, the changes may be as quiet and unobtrusive as the unfurling of a leaf or blade of grass poking up through the dirt. Spring might announce its presence with a cacophony of chirping or sneak in behind the drip, drip of melting ice. Loud or soundless, obvious or not, the changes of Spring are nevertheless dramatic...just like the Springs in us.
We tend to look forward to Spring and the changes is brings. Winter has its place and is a beautiful season in its own right, but I've never heard someone say, "Man! I wish the winter would never end. I just can't get enough of the biting wind and gray skies." Even if we're a fan of winter--snow and skiing and hot chocolate, there comes a point when we're ready for change. Though we feel this way about the weather, can we say the same about change in ourselves? We welcome the season of growth in nature...why do we sometimes dread it in ourselves? Granted, it can be more comfortable to sleep and it's definitely warmer under the covers. Staying still and curled up uses much less energy than breaking through the crust or bursting the seed pod. But why do we fear the change and burrow deeper, preferring to stay in our own personal winter?
Here videos of some of my resurrection songs:
