Spring arrives bejeweling everything with moistness and lush growth, here in middle California. I love the sudden gifts of magic, by looking closely in. (Click on the image to go in.)
When I give a weather report such as this, it is to mark the turning of the wheel of time. Seasons arrive in procession, never exactly fixed on the calendar but arriving in the smaller measures of light, air, water. Vernal equinox may be two weeks away but spring has been arriving in my garden since early February, when the rains came. I am enjoying every drop, for I know our state is in a pickle for water supply.
Our secular season will jump forward an hour this weekend with the arrival of daylight savings time, plunging us “ahead” in time. In my garden though, time moves at its own pace, a slow pace.
My first title for this post generated a -2 in the permalink, leading me back to a same-titled post from 2011 – I am attuned to “signs” for the word appears in many posts. I have been saying lately that I love this online journal for its searchability. On the other “hand” I love the tangents I meander down when trying to find an old entry in my handmade journals. Is this digital v. analog thinking? Slow time v. fast time? The codex was more searchable than the scroll. Now the interwebs have taken reading another quantum leap.
This year I am tasting the sweetness of miracles as the friend of a friend I wrote about last year will be teaching how to become a midwife for the end of life. And this year, she will be teaching it with the dimension of having been at that threshold herself a year ago. Sacred wisdom indeed.