It was a warm, wet, humid spring day today. There was a low overcast all day. The wind was strong, and the clouds were racing from South to North. Not a usual New England pattern on April 1st. Not at all.
I took Ellie outside. She sat in her stroller, watching me with her wise dark eyes as I raked up the straw and pine boughs that had covered my perennial beds. The wind blew strong and the pines creaked and moaned. Ellie watched. She watched me stoop and scrape and gather up the winter coat of the garden. She watched the birds darting back and forth and up and down. She tipped her head back and watched the tops of the trees as they swayed back and forth above her.
Tonight, after I had taken Ellie home to her Mom and Dad, I stood on my deck. The night was coming on fast, and rain threatened to fall. There was thunder in the distance, making my old dog Sadie shiver and quake at my feet.
I looked out, across our property, to the wetlands beyond. I strained a bit to hear what I so wanted to hear. And there it was.
The spring song of the “peepers”, the tiny green tree frogs whose voices fill the evening air of New England springtimes. I smiled, remembering all of the years when my children and I had stood in this same spot, waiting for that springtime call of love and hope.
I thought about Ellie. How funny, I thought to myself. This is her first spring time!
I thought about the rhythms of life. About Ellie hearing and smelling spring for the very first time in her life. I thought of myself, remembering so many springtimes in the past. I thought of my Mother, feeling and hearing spring in her 86th year, wondering how many springtimes are still before her.
I stood on my deck, in the damp warm evening. I breathed in the smell of the leaves and the warming smell of the earth. I listened to the peepers in the marsh, seeking love.
Ellie has so much to look forward to in this beautiful life.