“I love this day,” I said to my husband as we worked together to rid a space of weeds in the early evening. He gave me his ‘what the …’ look and I kept on. “I was going to say I love this time of year, but I realized that it’s really only one day, when the tulips are all out, a few daffodils are still open, that tree is budding purple, the grass is green and it really only lasts like a day–and I love it.”
Sure enough, the tulips that have survived a feasting squirrel have dropped their petals so they look they are about to step out of a many-colored skirt. The leaves on the trees that surround me are still bursting out in purples, pinks, reds and green. It is a glorious day, a celebration of renewal as well as a reminder of the transitory nature of it all.
We are blessed with this day, regardless of the color that surrounds us. Blessed with this day, with the song of the cardinal, and the site of a silly squirrel–batting down a tulip and scampering off with its head. This is the day and it is glorious and I love it.