Opening The Windows To New Life
Last week, I opened the windows; literally and figuratively. For the first time since around mid-October when I stocked up on puzzles, spent Sunday afternoons making soup, and looked forward to binge watching TV shows, I welcomed the fresh air of Spring.
As I unlocked the windows, I was bombarded by the sounds of reawakening. Woodpeckers pecked in the far distance, a multitude of bird songs filled the soft breezes, and the bells of St. Leonard Retirement Community (located a stone’s throw away from our house) resonated at the top of the morning hour. The little boys next door announced their playful presence on the adjacent driveway where sidewalk chalk art designs brought much needed color to the otherwise drab blacktop.
The sounds of Spring invited me outside for a walk. That day marked the 477th consecutive day I’ve walked outside for at least a mile, but the welcoming air felt new and reviving. Tree buds, daffodils, and hyacinth surrounded me as I stepped beneath the glorious blue skies without a coat. Let me repeat, no coat. As I turned the corner to cross the street beyond my neighborhood, I was met with the swath of enthusiastic runners; the Centerville High School track team were effortlessly jogging while laughing together during their after school practice. Bouncing pony tails and gazelle-like strides remined me of the steadfast vibrancy of the young among us.
I continued my walk to the grounds of St. Leonard, and found myself walking behind an elderly woman pushing another elderly woman in a wheelchair. They were absolutely mesmerized by the glimpses of Spring lining the tree encased sidewalk. Every few feet they would pause, point to the squirrel’s play, the small purple crocus, or upwards towards the almost blooming dogwood tree just ahead. I stopped and chatted with them for a moment. We all were in awe of the newness of this warm welcome of the season of rebirth. Despite their seasoned age, these two woman reminded me of the vibrancy of the elders among us.
This, however, is the best discovery of my day. Yet again, a miraculously crafted bird nest has been constructed within my very plastic front door wreath. Inside, there are 5 or 6 little eggs well protected by a mother robin. Amazement enveloped me, and at least for the next several weeks, the area around my front door will be a no-traffic zone so as to give my little birds space to grow and eventually soar.
As I type, the sun is waning on this fabulous day. Birds remain busy with song and I still hear my little neighbor buddies next door mastering their scooters and soccer kicks. And to think, just last week, frustrated with lingering cold, I almost started another puzzle.
Like many of you, I am renewed once again by the surety of Spring’s hope. This is when it’s such a gift to live in southwest Ohio, where the seasons can be muddled, but sure. Who knows what next week will bring. I’m not ruling out one more snowflake sighting before winter bids a final farewell, but for today, Spring is winning the seasonal game. And what a magnificent present it is.
Now that my windows are open, I’ll be hard pressed to close them until next mid-October. In the meantime, like the woman pushing the woman in a wheelchair, I hope to forever be stilled in awe by the sweet songs, vibrant colors, and life-giving nests of Spring. And to think all the abundance of this day was simply because I opened my window.