So....it's almost spring in Portland, Oregon where I lived for many years. Soon the trees will be budding with hints of green, and floral coloring. There is rain, and very few hours of grayed sunlight. When the gentle transition of winter to spring took place in Portland I would dash about my life as usual. UNTIL! I would stop...in my car, (safely at the side of the road).... or in my walking and be transfixed by the magic of BLOSSOMESes. YES, you heard me right. It's pronounced BLOSSOM s es. (OK...so they never taught me phonetics in school, alright?)
The wonder of BLOSSOMESES! A winter browned tree would suddenly exude a hint of pink, then it would burst into the full brilliance of blossomed spring's beginning. I used to wonder, how is it possible that anyone could see this tree and NOT stop to observe the miracle that is happening here? (OK, I admit it, I'm a little...well shall I say....unique?)
Yet this "uniqueness" of mine I simply love. The miracle that I witness fills my soul with hope. Belief that just as winter is swallowed up by the renewal of spring my life will continually be filled with the promise of joyous days to come. Nature's renewal helps me face gray days, when the gray is NOT caused by winter's heavy handedness but by life's difficulties.