When the fullness of summer passes along through months of sun, it finds itself not – so – suddenly nose up to autumn, the time of seeding. And after those seeds have their inevitable rest – boom! Spring; that great giveaway where a riot of sound and colour takes place on earth.
Springtime on our island seems to me to be less boom and more tweet. Unlike more northern climes where flowers pop up and spread like carpets through pastures and woodlands, we are blessed with year-round flowers on our island paradise. One might say that we have an everlasting spring.
In the spring of my life, I recall always wanting to run; my rebellion against gravity that stuck me, grounded, when I wanted to be up and racing the wind. Light on my feet, I sprang around whenever I felt like it, annoying the adults who were either trying to get work done, or who were having a break from whatever work they had completed. I write this because I’ve recently been with our grandchildren and they were definitely springing around. Spring is the defining word – now is the spring of their lives and my goodness, to an autumn soul like I’ve become, it is a joy and a relief to witness those seeds of life that will carry us all through many years and lives ahead.
To reclaim the lightheartedness that we take for granted when we are young,
perhaps what we need as we age through our summer and autumn years is to let go of the blizzard of thoughts and concerns that engulf us, that nail our feet to the ground, and remember to water those seeds of happiness that forever remain within.
I read the following in an old diary I found, written 30 years ago:
“(my husband) Greg is working around the kitchen. Grouchy! He has a bad cold and is trying to make himself a tea of ginger and coriander and lemon that his partner suggested he try. The kids are noisy and he has just yelled at them. After a few grumpy moments poking at a lemon floating in his watery stew, our son Otis, who is perched beside him on the counter, watching, suddenly asked:
“Can you cha-cha like there’s no tomorrow?”
Seems to me that those seeds of joy we harbour within will sprout if we water them. Children can provide that liquid joy if we let go of the endless blizzard of our thoughts, past and future, and spring into the present.