The only other touches of brightness are the holly berries on my giant bush; they are in flame against the denseness of Mamma bush as they glow in the deep winter. The prickles on the leather-like leaves don’t bother the flying feathers at all; it is their shelter from the hawks and feline visitors and provides a shield from the sharp north wind.
Visible in this leafless, green-less day are all of the imperfections that take their place in a graceless way, stark, almost brutal and forlorn as they glare in stylish browns and neutrals on the canvas of my lawn. They hunker down under the brittle sky that is stretched like a flat gray wrinkle less sheet─ the mossy green on the lattice work, begging for the disguise of spring paint; the scruff of untrimmed crepe myrtles awaiting the keen blade of my trimmers; the mulch needing a ton of new friends, and they all long for the fresh breath of spring.
The desire for spring and the excitement of all that it encompasses is the driving force for me to enjoy the sense of accomplishment and well-being as I pass through another winter while leaving my finger and foot prints all over it.
I have lived and made my mark; I am living, making impressions, and I will live on through countless eternity of springs, those marked by time and timelessness; for spring is not just a season that governs growth on this earth but it is the state of my heart and spirit, the place where my soul blooms. God is owner of my Spring; Jesus the Gardner; his Holy Spirit is the pruner and I am well tended.
Song of Songs 2:11-13b (The Message)
Look around you: Winter is over; the winter rains are over, gone!
Spring flowers are in blossom all over. The whole world's a choir—and singing!
Spring warblers are filling the forest with sweet arpeggios.
Lilacs are exuberantly purple and perfumed, and cherry trees fragrant with blossoms.