Another winter has ended and another spring has come.  Along with the robins come the dandelions. The daffodils are blooming, and the early blossoms of the pear tree are in such a hurry to bloom that they risk disaster and are sometimes killed by winter’s last fling.

This year is the same as every spring before, and every spring to come.

We greet spring with happiness as it renews our heart. We are tired of the winter, the heavy clothing, and the confinement of being forced by the cold to stay indoors.  Spring releases us and brings gladness to the soul and lightness to our steps.

When spring approaches, I remember other springs and other times so long ago that they seem like other lifetimes now. In youth spring meant the end of a season of work and study. School would soon be out, books would be laid aside, and the long, lazy days of summer lay ahead.

In the spring of adult life, love bloomed with the flowers. Spring brides were as plentiful as the white blossoms of the pear trees.  Children played and celebrated the coming of a new season. Little league baseball and trips to the park were the meaning of spring.

So many springs have come and gone. How can it be that I can scarcely remember them, especially the spring so many years ago when love was lost?  The blossoms in their exuberant joy continued to bloom and seemed not to even notice that they were watered with my tears.

And now spring is here again.  I pulled dandelions from the garden today. As the flowers bloom the memories bloom too, both the sweet and the bitter sweet.  Nature continues to renew itself and life goes on. The yellow daffodils bloom. A new love has come into my life.

I went for a walk to enjoy the warmth of the bright spring sun. I saw children practicing for the beginning of the little league baseball season. A robin searched for food in my back yard.

Like the seasons, life goes on. Our joys, our tears, our lives are really only a small matter. We are merely observers of nature who live here for a few brief seasons.

Spring goes on forever.

©1999 Sheila Moss