Rejoicing of the birds

Quietly at first, then, almost overnight, happy chirping makes its way through the bare bones of the winter woods day after day. Not quite loudly announcing the return of the light but rejoicing in it nevertheless. There's stirring and shifting beneath the soil, almost unbeknownst to us, but slowly and gently the first signs of spring are being unveiled above ground. And so the cycle continues, season after season passing through the forest like the changing of the moon.

Like nature, I find myself in a state of “in-betweenness”. Holding on the quiet solace of winter while bracing myself for the bustling of spring. Acknowledging the heaviness of the world while I try my best to not succumb to its darkness. The urge to declutter, clean and organize my home and garden (and heart) is almost impossible to resist. I know winter is not over yet, and it will be a long while before I can greet the trees in their new shiny coats in hues of lime and emerald again. Yet, life emerges in the forms of snowdrops, young buds and primrose leaves all around the cottage. Soon the garden will erupt into an explosion of blackthorn blossoms, accompanied by hawthorn, forsythia, wood anemones and liverleaf. Garden plans will be set into motion, vegetable and flowers beds will be dug, the intoxicating scent of fresh blossoms and young evergreen tips will be greedily inhaled and before we know it, the first herbs and spring salads are ready to nourish our sluggish winter bodies with much needed nutrients. I can feel it already.

Until then, sit with me for a spell. Bathe in the light of crackling logs or the rays of sunlight occasionally peeking through the clouds, sip on a cup of herbal tea and marvel at the view outside of your window, no matter how grey. Isn’t it astonishing that the bareness holds so much promise while we eagerly wait for it to grow into its lush magic once again? (I feel like there is a metaphor for our state of the world in there somewhere…)