Her: “Did you consider that it might be protection?”
Me *sniffling* “mmm…what?”
Her: Maybe there is purpose in that situation ending.
On that day, I just wanted to cry… but yesterday down on my knees, with the damp earth seeping through my jeans, the words of my wise friend echoed in my heart.
It might be protection.
There is purpose.
I get so excited for this time of year in the garden ~ the spring clean-up after the fall clean-up. The fall clean up is a tucking in, but this, this is like opening a package. Like welcoming a new baby. Old growth, left for winter interest, is making way for the new. Like a deep breath of air right after it rains; all feels fresh, crisp and clean.
Ubiquitous cup of coffee in hand, I took inventory.
* Leaves & trash out of beds
* Move trellis
* Trim the crape myrtles
* Too much to do in one day, just start…
And then it was time… to tend and be in the quiet of birdsong, earth and thought. As I gently pushed back crunchy brown leaves to uncover the seem-to-be-dead-but-not-really-perennials, I heard her again, “Did you consider it might be protection?” The wind blew, and I continued lifting leaves, like little blankets, off of the truth that, the scenario I thought was breaking my heart, was simply a cycle. One that I can welcome not fight. Situations fall to the ground and feel like death. The tears are real, but the endings circle around to the next beginning. I love uncovering the buds and bits of green because it’s like uncovering my dormant heart. Those little buds infuse me with hope. “Maybe there is purpose in the situation’s ending.” Maybe, oh, maybe…
Winter is ending ~ Spring is coming.
I am new growth in a brown package;
hope wrapped in last year’s fallen dreams.