24 February 2017
It may indeed be fantasy when I
Essay to draw from all created things
Deep, heartfelt, inward joy that closely clings;
And trace in leaves and flowers that round me lie
Lessons of love and earnest piety.
So let it be; and if the wide world rings
In mock of this belief, it brings
Nor fear, nor grief, nor vain perplexity.
So will I build my altar in the fields,
And the blue sky my fretted dome shall be,
And the sweet fragrance that the wild flower yields
Shall be the incense I will yield to Thee,
Thee only God! and thou shalt not despise
Even me, the priest of this poor sacrifice.
- Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Lately, my goal has been to take moments to slow down and pay more attention to the nature just outside my windows. As the season shifts into spring, there are bold colours showing up on branches all around, shifting in these unsettled winds.
I make my way up my shallow steps and get a full view of the purple blooms that cascade like a waterfall, bringing feeling analogous to spring without much effort. With warming temperatures, the flowers make their presence known to soak in the sun.
My neighborhood is old, filled with homes built mostly in the 1920's- 1950's. The historic buildings are lovely and have history. The trees that sit in between homes and outside my windows have seen so many years of seasons. What is that like? To know so much?
Even though we don't have a real winter, many of our trees do grow barren during the winter months. So, when the burst of colour comes forth this time of year, it is a treat, a short-lived one that must be savored, because it'll be gone before you know it.
I do love spring, but it is all too short. It barely lingers and then summer is here. Sometimes I want it to delay, to keep the wintry presence hovering, which is partly why I love a foggy morning. The presence of the clouds at ground level makes me think of warm and cosy things. While driving in the fog is not really fun, I love to be at home or somewhere lovely to notice the contrast of colours against the grey palate of fog, the silence as the fog dampers the sounds, and the atmospheric realm of shadows that trees and homes become. It's the mysteriousness that grabs me, I think. That can be said about nature as a whole, don't you agree?