Thoughts For This Time

I have been feeling, lately, like 2020 has

us caught in a weird sort of purgatory between 

the old normal and the new.

Our relationships with friends and family 

depend upon technology rather than touch.

I am grateful for technology.  

I miss touch.

It's because of this, that the transformation from

winter to spring (albeit slow), this year, is intensely important.

Each day I listen for the songs of returning migratory birds,

and am comforted by their familiar refrains.

I watch the tiny buds on shrubs and trees

as they open -

allowing the leaves, that are tucked within their walls,

to slowly unfurl.

I measure their progress daily -

paying closer attention to the drama than ever before.

I even find comfort when awakened at night by the bark

of a fox as she calls her kits to her.

And though, for the sake of my hens and ducks,

I normally dread this time of year...

I am comforted by the knowledge that life in nature 

is unfolding as it should.

Arriving at the barn in the morning to find that

last year's swallows have returned to build a home for their brood

brings a smile to my face.

The sight of spring blossoms (that weeks ago were mere seeds)
lifting their faces toward the rising sun gives me hope.

In spite of everything, life is ebbing and flowing

as it normally does...

as we float along on this river of uncertainty,

with our hands fast to a slippery rudder,

towards an unknown destination.

Thankfully, the extraordinary ordinary remains to calm us and guide us.

Our days, like always, are filled with the necessary activity

that accompanies farm life.

We are never without an "agenda" (of sorts).

Our weather of late has felt like another purgatory.

The calendar says "Spring",

but often the thermometer says "Winter".

When we do have a sunny day, I become a sponge...

trying to hold on to the warmth and energy for as long as possible.

I hold fast to the knowledge that all of this is temporary...

a season unto itself -

and like all, one that brings unique gifts.

Seasons wax and wane...

replacing each other in time.

And with each, comes hope and opportunity.