It's definitely here now. Last night while I was sleeping it arrived ever so surreptitiously, waving a magic wand over the hawthorne and magnolia so their voluptuous rosy blossoms proudly greeted me this morning when I arose. Coffee cup in hand, I was left speechless to gaze in wonder, serendaded by symphony's of robins and cardinals.
On Sunday, our minister talked about being "Easter people," believing in the power of new life and rebirth. I admit to having difficulty finding shreds of hope in the midst of my winter. But each year about this time, my soul takes a deep breath and I am instantly calmed and comforted. And on mornings like these I am reborn along with the buds on our ancient trees. If they can perpetuate such beauty year after year, despite the months of freeze they endure, shouldn't I be able to do the same?