It's That Time Again

And because it's that time again, my mind is amiss, and I can't think of anything highly clever to write, because I am otherwise preoccupied.

"What time is this?", you ask. It's spring cleaning time, among other things that usually go along with getting organized, cleaning up and clearing out.

We've made slow but steady progress in our lives with spring cleaning on many levels in many areas.

In our hearts and minds, God is bringing revelation and beginning a revolution, which I promise to write about if I get a moment (I have a very long list of all the things I need to do and that's not on there yet).

I've been trying to upload photos for 2 days. I managed to get a few up but have not been able to get the rest up. Hopefully blogger will let me do it soon because they are good pictures and I would love to share with you!

Spring is my very favorite season. There are things I can find to enjoy in every season but spring "fills up my senses" as that John Denver song goes. Not just with the life I see bursting out of things that have looked dead for so long, or the smell of blooming flowers, fresh grass and fresh air that the spring breezes bring, but even my skin feels the new life all around. The energy of it hums all around me and I swear I can actually feel it (for any curious inquisitors, I'm not subtly implying I'm pregnant). I wake up in the morning feeling satisfied and optimistic, even if we slept terribly, because I can't wait to look out the window and see how green and living everything is becoming.



And spring in the south is beautiful. I had never seen wisteria until I came here. My grandma (who passed away two years ago this coming week, one day shy of her 91st birthday) had a book on her shelf with a lilac cover, a collection of stories, titled "Mysterious Wisteria". It was mysterious to me because I'd never heard of it, so when I saw it for the first time about 5 years ago, drapey lilac blossoms spilling over fences along the road and its sweet scent expanding in the warm air, a small part of my little girl self felt complete, finally knowing what it was. Some people don't care for it but it has a special place with me.



Our neighbor decided to grow some up and over the fence that separates our backyards and it took off like a rocket. It climbs and twists and arches it's lovely brown vines, siding up to the garage and springing back across. Recently the flower clusters budded and popped. I can't wait for them to grow, to get heavy and droop like clusters of grapes, and spill their scent into the air. I will probably spend hours in the backyard just to smell them while they last.



Springtime in the south also includes blooming dogwoods. I had never seen this tree either until we moved here. The neighborhood we live in was built in the early 50s and at least every other property, probably more, have dogwoods in their yard. In the spring, little leaves bud and literally overnight the white or pink flowers show up and spread their petals. They are a neat flower that opens fairly flat, and the branches of the tree tend to fan out, making an awning of dogwood flowers to shelter under. They usually stay in bloom for two weeks or more, so there is lots of time to enjoy them.

I had seen fireflies before on a handful of occasions, one or two lit up and flitting around a yard at dusk. But in the south, out past the housing developments and shopping centers, into the more rural areas, you can see literal clouds of fireflies. It is probably one of the more amazing things we have seen in our life. One spring we happened to be living out in a rural area and on our way home one evening, we had to pull off the road to take it all in. In the purple gloaming, growing deeper and darker by the minute, thousands and thousands of fireflies hovered, buzzed, jumped and blinked in enormous cloud after enormous cloud, suspended over damp and dewy fields. We pulled on to the shoulder of the highway just before our exit and rolled down the windows for an unobstructed view. Our mouths truly fell open, neither of us had ever seen something like this. To top off the experience, the night-blooming jasmine had blossomed for the evening. It was intoxicating, very much like something you would read about in a fairy tale. We kept saying that we just couldn't believe something so incredible really existed. Every spring we usually try to make one or two trips out to that same spot to see if we can stumble into that same amazing moment again. We've never seen it quite like that very first time but it still makes our jaws drop. If I can get a picture of it, I will.

But for now, I must return to the tasks at hand. At the moment that means going through the refrigerator and pantry and getting rid of old things we don't eat. Not quite the drudgery it sounds like, though. I always find that cleaning things out leads me to thinking about old ways of thinking and believing that need to be found, examined, and possibly dumped. So on to practical things with deeper implications!

Jenn