Branches to Spring

Something miraculous is happening in my home this weekend.  It is a beautiful and wondrous site and causes me to fall into hypnotic states every time I behold it.  My mind stops racing, my pulse slows a bit, and my breaths become slower and longer.  Every time I pass by, I feel my spirit leap with joy and a smile spread across my face.  What is this thing bringing me such happiness and peace?  It is the simplest thing but yet holds such power.  It is a vase of forsythia branches, brought in from the colder days of last week to sit in some warm water on my altar.  These branches were barren a mere three days ago.  Now they are bursting with life.  Little buds of yellow and green have sprouted up all over the braches.  Small bright yellow flowers are appearing here and there.  Spring has sprung in my house.

Each year, as February ends and March begins, I start the change over from Winter to Spring in my house.  Vases once filled with the pine branches cut from my Yule/Christmas tree are replaced with branches of forsythia from my backyard.  The last of the pine-scented candles are lit often to use them up before the first day of Spring and I begin stock-piling floral-scented candles of meadow green, pastel yellow and pale pink.  The Spring cleaning begins in small bursts – a few windows one day, a closet another day, perhaps curtains on yet another day.  The lists of seeds, new plants and growing mediums to be purchased for the Spring, Summer and Fall gardens are written with notations of where and when to buy them, when to plant them indoors, when to transplant them outdoors, and helpful little growing hints for each plant.  One of my favorite new traditions for St. Patrick’s Day, as the corned beef is simmering and the scones are baking, is to spend my day planting seeds in long trays on my sun porch and setting up the extra lighting because, alas, the days are still not long enough or warm enough for the tender seedlings as they push their way up and out of the soil.

And through all of this preparation for Spring, my forsythia branches are blooming in each room of the house, bringing their own form of sunshine to me.  They are a constant reminder of what is happening out there, out in the garden beds under the layers of mulch and the dark rich soil.  Life is beginning again!  I want to dance around the yard, singing a song about life and all its beauty.  I want to lay on the ground, put an ear to the earth, and listen for the uncoiling of roots, the bursting of seedpods, and the tunneling of earthworms.  I want to sit near my lilac bush and whisper sweet nothings to it as the buds begin to enlarge and crack open.  I want to climb a tree, perch on a limb, and watch the leaves return and envelop me in their lush green world.  I feel pregnant with new ideas, new desires, and new dreams.  All things are possible.  Hope springs anew.  These forsythia branches are a beacon in the chilly dampness of early March days.  They tell of the beauty of life in its most natural form.  As each bud opens, a whisper of Spring is heard and my spirit does child-like leaps through daydreams of bright colors, sweet scents and lush landscapes.