warmth of air, warmth of spirit

I'm so thankful Spring is here. Although, I remember when I was younger, probably a sullen teenager, that I dreaded warmer weather. I loved to be inside, reading books, and I knew when it was sunny and warm that I would be expected to go outside. Moreover, I would be expected to mow. I still remember the dread of waking on a Saturday morning and preparing to go into the "shed," full of hanging spiders and darting wasps, to get the grass cutter. I'd mow for hours, while the sun poured down, the insects fought back, and the stifling breeze blew the chaff back into my face as I made another turn around the field.

Ahem. But things are different now. I have a husband who mows, or pays someone else to do it. I have a garden that I am anxious to see grow and provide food for us. And I have two rambunctious little boys that need to play in the dirt and the grass and the open air.

There will be a time, soon, that I will think back fondly to winter. I imagine it will be in the middle of July, when wasps, roaches, and gnats are everywhere, and the caterpillars are devouring my swiss chard. It will be too hot to go out after 9 a.m., and I will walk at night with arms outstretched and swinging wildly to try to avoid putting my face into another inappropriately placed spiderweb.

But for now, I'm so happy. My boys and I are so happy. We are taking walks, and meeting friends at the park, and digging through the garden beds for plump worms to study. We are having picnics at Daddy's work. We happy to be out in nature again, thankful for its spiritual balm. It was a long winter.

"It is in such moments as these that the soul becomes conscious of her native dignity: we seem to be brought nearer to the Deity; we feel the sense of his sacred presence; the low-minded cares of the earth vanish; we view all nature beaming with benignity, and with beauty; and we repose with divine confidence on him, who has thus embellished his creation." 

--Helen Maria William, Julia