There is a hint of spring in the air. The slightest of hints. Blink, and you might miss it. A spring that wants to break free of the shackles of the icy winter, the winter that wants to hold on for just a little longer. I look out of my living room window every morning with the hope of seeing the tiny yellow or green blossoms, the earliest signs of spring, on the trees in our tiny backyard. Any signs elude me.
Today was different.
In Jersey, spring time is mostly a lot like rainy season back in India. It rains for the most part and it is cold at times. Jackets are a constant requirement till we usher in summer in late May, early June. As someone who does not have a particular fondness for that incessant rain, my feelings about spring here are mixed. Yet, I am looking forward to spring this year. A spring that will gently melt into summer, a summer that will bring in the endless blue sky, the colors and the warm breeze. A summer that may whisper to promise hope. Hope of traveling 8000 miles to see faces whose hearts long for their grandkids; who hold on to time to get a chance to make memories with the little ones that will last them for as long as they live. Hope of a place that is still home, my corner of the world that protects like no other, that nurtures like no other, that is warm like no other.
So, to spring I say:
“Come, it’s time.
Come in tiny steps of green or bursts of pink and yellow.
Come in to fill our senses and usher in hope.
Come with rain, I do not mind.
Just find your way in, as always. “
Thanks for stopping by. Stay safe. Stay kind.