The seasons

Though I had always lived among trees and birds in the city, it wasn't until I moved to the lake that I came to really feel the changes of the seasons.  After more than 10 years I have learned to permit the transformation in myself as they change. It remains a wonder and it is healing, bringing optimism, this cycle of perpetual withdrawal and rebirth.

Though the skies are gray, threatening to drip. The trees outside my loft window are bringing forth in all their resplendence  the buds of life restoring. I know my hummer will soon be on one of those branches, up from Central America insistent in his demand for attention.  I must fill his feeder.

It is hard to believe just a month ago those same branches were bare and home to inches of resting snow. Remember? Here.

I am so convinced that the future generations must and will recapture the mystery and the health our ancient ancestors felt when in concert with all of our natural world.

I suppose the usual things of fear and hunger drove the humans of the cold places to begin to perceive the natural world as something to be attacked, plundered and controlled. Well, we ice people have done our thing and the planet is on its knees though stubbornly continuing to serve up the gifts of life and contentment; if we will just accept them.