This weekend was so very beautiful. It's unlike any early March weather I've seen here before. I don't know if spring is truly upon us - snow could quite definitely still come down (which will be welcome here!). And I am saddened by the larger implications of this warm weather so early in our New England season.
But. In spite of all of that, I'm just going to think of these days right now, as they are, as a gift. The gift of sunshine and warmth and reacquainting with the springtime world around us.
Yesterday, Adelaide told me, "Mama, I know I have to but, I just can't come inside at all. I just can't. The sun feels too good on my skin." Indeed, it does.
I've been reading Wild Comfort: The Solace of Nature by Kathleen Dean Moore this week (full disclosure: we share a publisher). I've been so moved by it's words - it's a wonderful collection of essays - and the following in particular struck me this weekend as it echoed what I was feeling in the air. It's from a larger essay which has me thinking as I've never thought before about - of all things - snakes. Anyway, this part here:
"Do not be surprised that the return of the light lifts your spirits. Do not be surprised that warmth on your back calms you and makes you glad. Feel your spirits lift as the sun rises higher in the sky: this is part of you, this snaky gladness, part of who you have been for a million years. Find the warm places; do not expect them to come to you. When you find them, stay there and be still. Be still and watchful. In this quiet, taste the air. Lick up the taste of it. Listen. Listen with the full length of your body against the ground."
{From Wild Comfort: The Solace of Nature by Kathleen Dean Moore}
Isn't that lovely?
As we begin another week, I wish us all some warm moments in which to be still and listen.
