For the last few years in a row, there has been a day where I literally notice it - the change that has taken place. While there are many moments scattered through the weeks of spring of sunny days and warmer weather, the smell of thawing ground and the appearance of tulips, there is still one day that surprises me: the day I notice that the trees have leaves. And not just one or two trees here and there, but all of them. I'll drive over a hill or around a bend and it will just hit me that it's no longer just the start of spring, rather a full swing of a scenario.
Why it is such a surprise I'm not sure. Am I too close to the situation that I'm not able to step back far enough to see trees the forest? Am I too busy to notice the fledgling leaves that are bursting their buds, the process so slow it would take time elapsed photography to really notice the snails-pace evolution of the season? Or is the change of the leaves instantaneous in their impatience for the sun? Whatever the truth is, it is still a miraculous discovery each time. I never noticed it as a child, but I'm so glad in all of my busyness that I notice it now. These things need to be noticed by someone, and it is a burden I will gladly bear.
The thing is, my life changes the same way spring does. There are changes I hope for and wait for and pray for, and sometimes they just never seem to come. Or they seem to be coming and then there is cold setback, chilly enough to make me question whether things will ever turn around. But more often, it seems, the biggest changes - the ones I wait for most eagerly - are just one day....here. I've waited so long that I can't believe that what I wanted is now the reality - it just is! And I am in the middle of it, though I never really noticed how or when it happened. Too close to the situation that the process of change was imperceptible until the course was complete, leaving me reeling to understand what has happened.
I'm not speaking in code or breaking any news here. But I am waiting. I hope I am in the middle of changes, but right now I can't see past the bridge of my nose. I am impatient for the changes to occur but must reconcile that, while not today or tomorrow, this year or next, that something will be different eventually. That I will wake up one day, and I will find myself in the reality of surprises I didn't see coming but were slowly taking place all along.
Why it is such a surprise I'm not sure. Am I too close to the situation that I'm not able to step back far enough to see trees the forest? Am I too busy to notice the fledgling leaves that are bursting their buds, the process so slow it would take time elapsed photography to really notice the snails-pace evolution of the season? Or is the change of the leaves instantaneous in their impatience for the sun? Whatever the truth is, it is still a miraculous discovery each time. I never noticed it as a child, but I'm so glad in all of my busyness that I notice it now. These things need to be noticed by someone, and it is a burden I will gladly bear.
The thing is, my life changes the same way spring does. There are changes I hope for and wait for and pray for, and sometimes they just never seem to come. Or they seem to be coming and then there is cold setback, chilly enough to make me question whether things will ever turn around. But more often, it seems, the biggest changes - the ones I wait for most eagerly - are just one day....here. I've waited so long that I can't believe that what I wanted is now the reality - it just is! And I am in the middle of it, though I never really noticed how or when it happened. Too close to the situation that the process of change was imperceptible until the course was complete, leaving me reeling to understand what has happened. 
I'm not speaking in code or breaking any news here. But I am waiting. I hope I am in the middle of changes, but right now I can't see past the bridge of my nose. I am impatient for the changes to occur but must reconcile that, while not today or tomorrow, this year or next, that something will be different eventually. That I will wake up one day, and I will find myself in the reality of surprises I didn't see coming but were slowly taking place all along.
1 comment:
Hey E. I love this post. I have the same realization with the leaves on the trees. I'm glad I'm not the only one who realized that it's still a great thing to be surprised by the world. I sometimes wish I could be like Claire - that everything is exciting. I gave her her first slice of orange today (not the mandarin kind, she's had plenty of those). But this orange, I must say, was perfectly sweet, juicy, and with just the right amount of tart on the tongue. The look on Claire's face was wonderful. This new taste she had never experienced was almost joyful to her. I wish I had more things like that. Where things are new, and wonderful, and you just want to experience more. One of the great tragedies of growing up is loosing that sense of wonder in the world. At least we still have a few of those left in our lives.
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