spring...

When I was a little girl I would count the days until Spring... until the first purple crocus appeared to tell me that other flowers would soon follow. I knew, not long after, I would see daffodils and tulips and I knew just were to go to find the thickest carpet of pretty little violets. I used to think I was the only person in the world who knew those little violets were there. It was a ritual.

I miss that ritual. It has been many years since we have lived somewhere with four distinct seasons. I have always felt that when you grow up with seasons it becomes a part of you. Something in you still moves to the rhythm of winter giving way to spring and summer slipping into fall. Even without a calendar, something deep inside tells you that, somewhere, golden maple leaves are falling or the smallest crocus has pushed up through the snow.

Despite this internal knowing, I still long for the outward signs. I have resigned myself to waiting... realizing that one day we will have seasons again. I know, for now, I should enjoy the land of no-real-winter-to-speak-of. Roses in January are still lovely, after all.

A few evenings ago, I stood staring at the expanse of lawn in front of our house. I was envisioning the new bed that will go there (I'm thinking gardenias are needed). Just then, the breeze picked up and filled the air with such sweetness. The jasmine that grows beside our house was blooming and oh my, what a scent. The little girl in me said "Spring!" and I realized that whether it's jasmine or daffodils, it certainly smelled like the season had changed. And maybe we don't have crocuses or violets, but we do have a hidden patch of some nameless purple flower that seems to have bloomed overnight in the corner of our yard. Obviously, planted by fairies according to a certain nine year old who knows a great deal about such things.

So once again I'm surprised. Surprised that everyday it feels a bit more like "home" when I most adamantly insisted it never could. And surprised that even if I wasn't counting the days, Spring still found me.

not so fast...

Now that's ironic. I started a blog about moving, finding a home, settling in and making it our own (the very act of which means I am accepting all of these changes a bit, right?) only to have my dear one come home one day with a look on his face that told me to sit down. What's that? We're barely unpacked and your office might be relocating, we might be relocating with it and we won't know for awhile?

So much for that settled, at-home feeling.

Since "awhile" could have meant anytime in the next year I was left with that dull, hollow feeling of existing without really making long term plans. Of wondering is we should scratch the garden and cut back on the improvements to the house. Everything was so temporary again.
On the other hand, boy-oh-boy, was I getting a lesson on living in the moment. And let's face it, that's a lesson the universe has been trying to teach me for quite some time now.

And what about this blog? This brand-new, one post-so-far blog? It could slip away quite easily. No one knew it was here yet, it could just tip-toe out the way it slipped in and all would go on as if it never existed. But that thought made me sad. Like not getting to finish a book that looked promising.

But finally word came that we can stay put. I type that with one very long, grounding, sigh of relief. Improvements and landscaping can go on with more than just re-sale in mind. Friendships have a chance to form roots strong enough to hold when the inevitable move does come again one day. But I think what I love best of all is the quiet rhythm of the days that I get to picture stretching out ahead of us. What we picture in our minds is seldom what reality holds but I do love and cherish that picture, nonetheless.

And don't think I'm not laughing at myself a little. I came here kicking and screaming only to kick and scream all over again when I'm told I might not get to stay? But, you see, it's "home"...wherever and however...it's "home" I really want. And it looks like, for the next little while anyway, that's just what we have here.