I'm terrible at waiting. Patience is a virtue I lack. So as you can imagine waiting for my book's release in October is hard. Very hard. I feel guilty in saying this because in the world of publishing my book sale and release happened incredibly fast. But the waiting is still hard.
Spring chides me for this impatience.
I'm a goal-oriented person. I work fast and obsessively, which is good because it means I accomplish a lot quickly. But there's a price to be paid for being oriented always toward the horizon.
It's too easy to miss what's happening in the moment.
Unlike most years where dirty slush gives way to sudden hot weather, Minnesota is experiencing a phenomenon: spring. We're finally getting a taste of this elusive season.
Spring is precious because of its rarity and brevity. The earth and air crackle with energy as slumbering plants burst to life. I can't help but pause, enjoying each moment that leaves unfurl and flowers peek out of the dark soil.
Some of my favorite blooms appear, ever so briefly, in this season:
the unassuming grace of lily of the valleythe intoxicating perfume of lilac
the sweetness of tulips
the tender petals of narcissa
the joyful scent of apple blossoms
I'm trying my hardest to remember to pay attention and enjoy them because I know sooner than I imagine the fleeting beauty of spring flowers will give way to the lush riot of summer blossoms. Infant leaves of sparkling green will mature to rich emeralds by June.
Spring is a gift. No matter what I'm waiting for, I don't want to miss this season.