We know that Spring happens, but it still feels miraculous to see those flowers burst forth — and to weather the early spring storms. The brilliant green of June, the blink of fireflies in July, I can name you something in every month of the year that we find miraculous either because they take our breath away or restore our hope.
Should we quibble that they’re not technically miracles? Because they really, really, really feel like miracles.
And what about things like friendship and romance. They develop across the most unlikely barriers and differences. Are there sweeter miracles than these?
All the impediments sometimes don’t seem to make a difference and love blossoms and flourishes, just as the narcissi flourish in the Spring.
So, isn’t it possible that something as ridiculous, as astonishing, and as unlikely as Peace could also bloom and flourish? Imagine the first perfect strawberry you eat in a season. Peace might taste like that. Strawberries are possible. Why not Peace?
And if miracles are possible, what would it take to keep them happening. The Earth does a pretty good job with Spring, although heaven knows, humans are doing their best to screw that up. And people keep falling in love and friendship, despite the barriers. So how do we keep Peace happening? How do we encourage it’s burgeoning?
Let’s Peace. Let’s find out. Let’s be the Miracles we need in this world.
Spring is so beautiful and so powerful. The force of life returning, reaching through cold soil for the sun is overwhelming and will not be stopped.
However, bits and pieces can be interrupted. This year, it was.
This magnificent magnolia was on her way. She was filled to the brim with dazzle, ready to delight.
But the freeze was insistent. Nothing personal. The freeze wasn’t thinking about the magnolia at all.
The freeze just won the weather battle that day, and the beautiful magnolia turned brown and withered away… The flowering beauty won’t appear until next year, weather willing.
And we’re left with the reality that life doesn’t always give us what we’re waiting for. The freeze has its own icy beauty. And we must make Peace with that.
Some people think sloth is a vice, but nonsense. There are times when sloth is the only answer. And then it’s up to you to make an art form of it.
When the stones are sun-warmed and the breezes are blowing? What better thing to do but appreciate the gift?
Days like this are rare. Say thank you. Appreciate it. Live into it.
Settle in for some Sun-warmed, slothful Peace.
Peace of the Sun-warmed stones to you, my dears.
We should all eat more vegetables. And this is a good reminder.
Because Asparagus. Spring.
Peace on Earth. Peace with the Earth. Eat green things. Celebrate Life. Celebrate Spring!
We really do seem to have sailed through March with no flurries. So our flowers are bravely pushing their way out of the ground. We’re having the flowers we often have at Easter, despite the fact that Easter is incredibly early. (Western Easter, that is)
On the one hand, it’s crazy. It’s too warm for this time of year. Whether it’s climate change or El Nino, something is not right. On the other, it’s hard not to appreciate it. It’s the end of March and it’s supposed to be a balmy, sunny 72˚.
March is such an amazing month filled with ups and downs, filled with anticipation. It’s amusing to watch people fuss and fume when it does what it does. You hear people say, here, in Central PA, “but it’s Spring, it should be warm.” Uh, no. Well unless you have Climate Change or El Nino.
But here we are, with a beautiful day, and many people on holiday. Be here now. Enjoy the Peace of today.
It is that time of year. I had to go drive along the North Branch of the Susquehanna yesterday. As much as I love Lewisburg, that’s my part of the river. I know how it reacts.
This time of year, as the road runs between the hill and the river, you drive past the beginnings of the forsythia. The forsythia stretches for a mile or two. Half the year it’s simply bramble; the other half, it’s green. Except for these astonishing two weeks when it’s gloriously yellow.
And these daffodils. Ha! it says to this snow. Ha! I will bloom bravely and defy what is leaving, however reluctantly. Winter is leaving. Spring is coming. They know their minuet intimately. It sometimes confuses us, but that’s not their problem. The seasons know the steps to the dance.
There’s a message in that for us I think… Peace. Make Peace. Declare Peace. Dance Peace. If our time is short, make our mark in Peace.
In the name of what we believe in, in the shadow of Ankara, Brussels, Paris, and on and on and on, let us pray and work for Peace. Let us Peace.
It was a dark and stormy day… never you mind, it’s still the Vernal Equinox! It’s still Spring.It is, as is every day, a sacred gift to be unwrapped and celebrated. Stand still and be amazed!
It’s my Sabbath, day to gather with my community, day of rest and reflection.
While it may not be the day that I do the most for Peace, it is the day I focus the most on it.
I love this sunrise pic because it’s such an everyday picture. It’s a reminder that every day matters. A new day dawns. What will we do with it? Every day arrives to be filled up with Peace or Sweetness, according to our whims.
We have such freedom here to do that. We’re not waking up in a war zone. We’re not waking up under someone else’s thumb. And yet we’re allowing our world to be filled up with such ugliness. Ugly rhetoric. Ugly actions. So let us make whatever small stands we can.
Every day. Everyday matters. Every day matters. Everyday Peace. Every day, Peace.
Angel dust. Seeds of Peace. Go right ahead and sprinkle the world liberally! It’s almost Spring and the soil is softening… They might just take root! And goodness knows we need sweet mischief; there’s plenty of the malicious kind going around.
You’ve seen this angel before in these pages. In every season, every background, she has a different look… Same angel… hmmm… maybe we’re seeing things differently!
But here we are, with this warmly out of season weather, nothing to do but get outside and get up to some Peace. Or avoid the rain that’s supposed to fall around, and stay inside and wonder what Peace you can get up to.
It’s so needed. There’s so much turmoil and discomfort. Let’s be the ones bringing Peace.
What if sprinkling Peace were a delightful and mischievous thing rather than a heavy obligation? What if we just went joyously into the world and made Peace.
I’m a homebody. Given enough books, I could stay at home a long time.
But every once in a while, there’s a scent in the air that beckons. The highway wants me and my soul wants to wander.
Weather and siren songs being what they are, they don’t usually mesh well with my work responsibilities. It’s odd, as well, because when i want that trip, i consider packing about an outfit and a half, maybe two, if the weather’s likely to change. Pack to go to a hotel? I need the big roller suitcase.
I’m not going anywhere, other than to my meeting at 9:45. and the one at one,and the one at three, and Poetry under the Paintings tonight.
But I tell you, the road calls. Someday when it calls, I will pack my bag, lock the door, and drive away for a while. Peace sometimes is found in leaving home, just as it is sometimes rediscovered in returning. Peace to you: you who are wandering, you who are staying. Peace.
Put a bunch of kids together on this pile of dirt, “arm” them with trowels and rakes and toys to play with, and it won’t matter if they speak the same language or not. Because they’ll be busy playing together.
Dirt. The new leveler.
Dirt. The new weapon for Peace.
Nothing but good times ahead until someone comes with the snack.
Yes, someone needs to have said “Play nice,” before they take them there; someone needs to intervene if the big kids start picking on the little ones — they’re children, not saints.
But all things being even, Peace will reign on the dirt pile and kids will have fun, and the mothers will laugh to see it be so.
Spring. Dirt. Clothes you can play in. Friends, old or new. No assignment other than to have a good time. Being young enough you don’t worry about getting your hands dirty. Peace. Sometimes it’s simpler than we think. Not always. but sometimes. If we let that happen.
Peace. Dirt. Spring.