The lone, pale crocus

Life has taken a drastic turn.  We all sit behind closed doors.  Peering out the window at the quiet world outside.  No school, no work, no socializing. We can’t go out except for emergencies.  Gas, groceries, medication.  We venture out about once a week.  The food hoarder I married has stocked up our freezers and fridge.  This food overload is paying off.  But we still require milk for our daughter and fresh bread and fruits.

I still live with a routine.  In my home, I am up first and enjoy listening to my talk radio host.  He brings humor into this newly strange world.  Listening to his rantings makes mine seem less dramatic.  It is comforting.  The cat and I lay in bed for two hours.  Following is my morning coffee.  I really cannot function without its robustness in my belly.  My morning run still keeps me sane amidst this insanity.  No one is really up and about as I cruise up and down my quiet neighborhood.  Today, the sun was out; the warmth soothed my soul. The cardinals’ chorus gave me solace.  But the brightest part of this day was the lone, pale crocus I spotted.  It stood their alone surrounded by dry, decaying brown leaves and dirt.

Spring is not my favorite season with its chilliness and rain, but the bright sunshine and melodious birds along with the blooming flowers bring me so much joy.  The sun fills the rooms of my house with delightfully soothing light.  It recharges the family.  The robins make their comeback with surprisingly round bellies. But my favorite are the cardinals with their bright red feathers.  They are not only beautiful in vision, but also to the ear.  Their songs always remind me of warm summer days enjoying the outside. In Spring, the trees are still craggy and brown, but there is a reminder of  hope in the small buds at the ends of the branches.  Soon those buds with be luscious with rubbery green leaves or fragrant blooms filling the air.

As I move onto my next scheduled duties, I keep thinking of the lone, pale crocus.  Why did it catch my eye the way it did?  That little, inaugural flower was announcing its own sign of hope.  These next few weeks or longer may be dark, dank, and decaying, but we will be the lone, pale crocus breaking through the darkness at the end of all this.  There is an end to this and we will stand strong and tall again.

 

 

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