It is my goal this year to be connected to the Spring. That’s part of the lesson I’m learning by reading all of these Anne of Green Gables books for the past several weeks. I need to get out there in the world, in the air, and soak it all in.
I walked in the woods today, on this fragrant spring afternoon, and could feel layers of winter falling away. The mud was squishy under my flowered Doc Martins and the sunlight dappled the wind-blown sticks and leaves and tree limbs that cluttered the paths. Feet will toss these branches out of the way on other warming afternoons, or cheerful dogs will pick them up and make them temporary playthings, and the path will be worn clear again. I’m sure many people have walked the path I followed today, but it was my first time there. I like knowing that there’s further to go, more to find, and lots of other tree-filled places that I haven’t met yet.
I still feel vaguely guilty that I had woods behind my Yellow House that I never fully got to know. In those years when the girls were small, I had so much to focus on that I never really ventured beyond my porches, overlooking it all. Being somewhat homeless right now has made me interested in exploring places I have yet to discover. I didn’t expect that to happen as a result of this tumultuous time.
Next week will be daylight savings time. When I was in college, I inevitably had an adventure during the weekend of daylight savings time. While my days of adventuring have ended…or, at least, morphed into some horribly grown-up version of adventure…there still exists the thrill of possibility, of a great big leap into a new phase full of extra sunshine and daffodils. Just like Anne, the spring is alive and I intend to be alive in it.
I am going to start keeping my boots in my car, just to have them ready at a moment’s notice. I am going to be more in tune to spontaneous invitations from the spring to come in, take a walk, listen, and see what might be revealed.