On Monday afternoon, great black clouds spread blotchy shadows over the neighborhood like spilled grease. And then brushed by early evening sun, a wide wash of light invited us outside. Following the downpour, the earth sent up the rich odor of soil. And after all the wind, the pear trees sent down swirls of foliage that paved our path with milky petals.
Outside the scent of lilac is almost sippable. Forsythia screech their golden heads at the sky, while ferns and hosta hustle toward the sun. Puddles of purple circle rhododendron roots and redbuds sprout bubble gum flowers from brown winter sticks.
As a result of all the recent rain, everything is blooming in ridiculous splendor. This spring, new life feels less like an assault and more like an invitation to follow suit, to cry a little, but to grow more.
JEB
3 comments:
You and your words... You have a way with them. That last line, "This spring, new life feels less like an assault and more like an invitation to follow suit, to cry a little, but to grow more." So perfect. You have so many gifts, Jenni. The way you marry your words with your emotions is absolutely one of them. Thank you for sharing such an amazingly honest and beautiful picture, with your words.
Jenni Baby,
I could write like you do...if I were smarter and knew how to spell.
L2A4
P.S. I drove Grandma Sandy to the Courtside Grill last night. It is conveniently located near where she left her car, cell phone and self respect.
Wow! Another amazing post Jenni. Your way with words never ceases to amaze me!
Bryan
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