Sunday, April 3, 2011
Today,in the warmth of early April, I went into the woods behind our house.It was the least I could do,honor the changes going on back there by the swamp.No one sees the wild azalea high above the fallen leaves, pink buds opening,softest color pink. There are at least ten of these wild trees on the slope and it was worth the trip.Only one is bright orange and it blooms later.
Rue anemone, an endangered flower ,grows on the other slope.Small white and delicate, they could be easily missed if not for my son's finding of them.I sent him pictures of their slight beauty while he was in Australia.To him, they are home friends and he left in winter and didn't want to miss Spring.I am glad he is attached to Georgia and his found flowers.He'll stay nearby when he finally lights in one place.
This Spring seemed to jump out of nowhere.All of a sudden, colors instead of brown and grey.Pink dogwoods and a special Kwanzan Cherry in our back yard.When I was a kid, my friend Carol had one of these growing outside her bedroom window.I remember standing under it,the fluffy rich pink flowers framed by deep green leaves.I wonder if Carol knew what a fairy land,magic and something quite wonderful was out there.I was cherry tree magic deprived until we moved into this house.We planted one as soon as we moved in.It has so many holes from the lawn mower that I keep expecting it to dry up and expire but not this year.
If I keep writing about this, that Spring feeling will come once again,that deep longing mixed with tremendous excitement that I felt as a child on Long Island when we could wear shorts again,the ones with the strawberry print.I can remember running down the stairs from my room thinking I would burst with joy at the warm air and the freedom from galoshes and heavy coats and of friends coming out of winter hiding.
In the woods,in February,the first color is red, and when the setting sun hits the seed pods of the maples they look like brilliant rubies.The first time I noticed them, for some reason I thought of Helen Keller who grew up in Alabama but never saw these jeweled branches.I named them Helen's Rubies and by doing so shared the scene with her.
Today's gospel was about being blind and not seeing.About the healing of the blind man.The rich man was not blind when he passed the beggar Lazarus.He did not see him.We are back to focus again.Am I seeing what is important?The sadness in a friend's eyes?And then what?These scriptures are alive and penetrating.Thinking on this,I went into the woods.