Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Yesterday and the day before brought an early taste of spring to NYC, roughly two weeks after one of the biggest snowstorms in recent memory brought the city to a halt. I walked to work under a Caribbean blue sky that lifted my mood with the promise of returning life. For the last several months, I had been trudging through winter's muted grays, my energy level matching the leaden skies. But tonight The Pooch and I walked through a heather garden recovering from winter's devastation. Purple crocuses, the first to bring spring's cheer, had sprung up overnight under one of the gnarled trees. White bluebells dotted both sides of the path like stars. The Pooch and I sat on the Linden Terrace and watched the sky aflame with sunset. I was reminded of gentler days, when people walk more slowly and smile more easily, when life's trials flow away more gracefully into memories. Now the weather threatens to turn cold again. The weatherman has forecast three days of rain. But tonight's lighter springtime mood will carry me through. Nature is trustworthy. No matter how cold the winter, her rebirth brings an end to all the seriousness, reminding us to rejoice in being alive.