Remarkable - we went away for a few days last week and when we came home, the wheel of the year had turned! I had my hands full with bags from our trip, and I did notice the snowdrops as I came through the garden, but was focussed on getting in, putting things away, getting the kettle on... FB wasn't following me and I could hear him chattering excitedly outside, so I stuck my head out of the door to see what was going on to see his face lit up, eyes sparkling as he pointed to a small drift of snowdrops 'Look mummy, snowdrops!' he said, 'that means it must be spring!'.
Indeed, the snowdrops are drifting all along the roadsides through the village and stretching up towards the top road, as are crocuses and primulas; the blackbirds are singing so much more in the mornings, and the rooks are thronging in the trees at the front of the house again in increasing numbers, and I've seen them busying to and fro in the daytimes with twigs in their beaks... I've got washing dried outside on the line, the thermostat turned down, the air feels drier, warmer, full of promise... I'm itching for the chance to get out and spend some proper time and effort in the garden. My boy was right - it must be spring!
Sap rising and I respond in ebbs and flows, at once excited and somehow sad. I've been reflecting on losses and trying hard to move forward from the grief therein without regret - the promise of spring brings new opportunity and motivation, but all that brightness sparks the memory too. But we create our own reality and I've worked so hard for this one! I will not let it pass me by!
FB slept tonight with cheeks ruddy from hours outdoors and a weekend's play with family - how he loves to be surrounded by people! Especially his people, our people - my sister, 2 brothers, 2 nephews and grandparents - what a treat! And how I see how for both of us, communal living makes so much sense! We both of us thrive on those interactions, the easy company, shared work, gentle engagement with the world... Slowly, carefully, I am finding myself reimagining my world, because I am free and I can. As a teenager, I had in my head (and various notebooks) 'The Pillar of Dreams' - a great tower of hopes and fantasties and it led me forwards through even the darkest of times, and was never, ever dependent upon any kind of sense of making all or any of it real - I'm rebuilding the Pillar of Dreams.
