Yesterday morning I checked the front flower bed for my baby siberian iris, since they usually come up soon after the crocus start blooming. There were green spikes of leaves, but no sign of buds. I looked out late in the afternoon and whoosh! -- they'd come up and bloomed.
Crossing the campus this morning, I couldn't tell if the sun was up by looking at the sky -- it was covered with thick rain clouds. But there was a chorus of birds to welcome it anyway, including some plumped-up robins. The rain spattered against my umbrella and the air was full of the scent of pine and wet earth. Ahhh...breathe deeply.
Muddy March, I thought, but not yet spring -- there aren't any earthworms on the sidewalk. That was on the way to the Rec-Fitness Center. By the time I headed home, I had to watch my step to avoid stepping on them. It's that transitional, who-knows-what's-going-to-happen season. Just after that I saw a flock of penguins.
Okay, so it was just the GC men's choir -- young men in black and white, flocking towards a tour bus near the music building, pillows under their arms, ready for anything. Maybe even a trip to the Pole.
"Instructions for living a life:
Tell about it."
Mary Oliver in "Sometimes"
I've taken on a prayer practice of looking for the moments of light in each day, whether actual or metaphorical, and then writing or posting photos of what I find.