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.