Early spring is painted in a shimmering palette; its colors so full of the life force that they border on lurid. If I were to paint our garden replicating its colors, the result would be called amateurish. But in nature these colors are glorious.
Glorious. I had to look up the word to know its precise meaning. Resplendent. Magnificent. Yes, these are words I would use to describe the moment.
It happens every year, this resurgence of life. But every year it once again fills me with awe. Plants thrust out of the ground like missiles from their silos. They grow inches each day. And then unfurl leaves like dancers embracing the sky, the rain, the sun and the pure glory of life.
To stop and look and study is to fill one’s heart with wonder. To come so close to the mystery that you are filled with the excruciating beauty of it all.
I cannot help but let my mind wander once again to outer space. To see this moment from its vast emptiness. The growth at my feet floats in a universe in which we have not yet found its duplicate. It is something of such literal improbability that it is impossible to contain in my mind.
Thank goodness we do not need to understand in order to embrace the glory.