I awoke on this April morning to five inches of new snow across the garden--pretty and fluffy but wrong.
On a day like this, it takes imagination to remember what lies beneath the snow. Below the cold drifts, my grandmother's lilies wait for their chance. Even though they are invisible, they hold their inevitable green and yellow promises close.
They are not worried. They are not frustrated. They are not desperate. They wait patiently. Theirs are resilient spirits.
I cannot face making another pot of hot soup for dinner, not in April. Instead, I'm looking ahead, trying to be like a lily nevertheless. So we'll have poppy seed chicken and asparagus with fresh lemon juice. I'll let a few seeds fall onto the platter. Dinner will be a reminder of what people forget when faced with April snow.
Seeds.
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Love this, Karen. You've captured exactly how Minnesotans are feeling. Impatient but struggling to be calm. I'm tired of my winter sweaters, but then I'm glad I have them. It's a mixed-up time.
ReplyDeleteHonestly I thought of you, Vicki, and your snowy FB posts as I wrote this. After experiencing 10 years of eager, lingering NC springs, I understand the blessing of the season's arrival now. Living all across the US has been a true lesson. I appreciate your comment.
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