Tag Archives: Simple Pleasures

Spring into Reflection

As I write this, a soft, spring breeze flutters through my open window.  I am drinking riesling so cold it sweats against my glass, a much needed departure from the bold reds of winter.  On the deck, the sound of a bamboo chime rustles in a restless, hollow tune.  I listen to the birds tweet, the frogs croaks near the pond, and of this moment, I know a simple, singular thought: there is nothing but right now.

Except the blooms. 

Beyond my storied windows, the rains have greened the grass.  Buds swell from bushes, plump and heavy and hopeful.   After a long and miserable winter, tiny red shoots of  peonies stretch toward the sun.  Down in the garden, irises cluster while hyacinths preen, the first to put on a show.  A week or two from now, the flowering trees holding court in my yard will burst into pink and frosty blooms and I will sit here with a stupid grin on my face, wondering, was spring always this great? 

I watch my boston, Josie, roll around in the lawn and I can’t help but think: my dog knows this answer better than I do.