Sometime each morning I find myself standing at our kitchen counter looking out the window onto our back yard. Often as I finish the last of my coffee before I walk the dog and go to work. For months the view out my window has either been the dirty white of old snow or the shriveled brown of dead grass. And, for the longest time this year, patches of dirty snow lingered in the shaded corners of our yard.
Sunday morning was different.
For the first time in months, just a hint of green was visible.
The grass, it seems had just been waiting;
Instantly ready;
For the sun and the breeze to change for cold to warm.
The forsythia will soon follow.
Then the trees and then the lilacs.
For the last several weeks of the winter my spirit mirrored the view outside my window.
Cold.
Brown.
Shriveled.
Empty.
I long to be like the grass.
Attentive to the change in the breeze.
Ready to come back to life.
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