A Spring Thing

People get excited about Spring.


I get excited about Spring.


There is something magic about the seeping of green into lawns,


The thousand, thousand leaf spears thrusting through the gray-brown earth,


The dots of color – mostly blue and yellow – so bright, so welcome,


And, above all, the haze of embryonic leaves that clings to tree branches.


All of these are reminders of the power of Life.


It is Life returning—no, not returning, it never left.


It is Life becoming more apparent.


Embrace the pastel haze of Spring.


Celebrate the return of colors, all colors – pastel and bold.


Life is a mosaic kaleidoscope—a dazzling process in which each of us can dance.


So dance.

On the Precipice

March is a strange month.


Today the temperature may reach close to 80. Tulip and iris leaves pierce the soil. Early crocuses explode yellow. I’ve even seen a daffodil blooming.


But it is March in Colorado, a time when the weather teeters on the precipice of a new season -- all too vulnerable to plummeting back into frigidness.


I will walk in the sunshine, absorbing the warmth and Vitamin D – enjoying what may only be temporary, for as long as it lasts.


But I am a realist.


All winter, the footwear sitting by my front door has included one pair of snow boots, one pair of sneakers, and one pair of black shoes to wear with slacks (when I dress up).


All of these will stay. I’m just adding one pair of sandals.


[I’ll put the boots away next month.]

Interesting Legacy

I still miss Jayne (my sister-in-law who died Monday, Oct. 17, 2011).

It’s interesting to note what things bring her to heart and mind.

• The gold throw in my TV room that somehow goes perfectly with the sort of orange walls and under which I snuggle to read or watch The Daily Show.

• The garden ornaments she gave me: the glass flower, the little metal dragonfly, and the spinning rainbow flower.

• The little teapot and cups that she gave me when I still lived in Chicago.

• The pillar candle decorated in Japanese-style artwork featuring a beautiful white crane. (I keep it on the plant stand in my entry way.)

• And Mexican food.

I never liked Mexican food before Jayne died. But almost every time I was with her husband or sons or daughter-in-law or granddaughters during the whole process of her dying and her funeral and the holidays that followed, we seemed to wind up having Mexican food. I began to develop a taste for it.


Yesterday, on my own, when I had all kinds of options, I deliberately went to a Mexican restaurant for lunch. I ordered something I had never before eaten. And I enjoyed it.


In memory of Jayne.