Armchair Peregrinations

March 27, 2003

As I was walking at the college the other day, I noticed that all of a sudden spring was truly here, in a grand preview to its full glory in another week or so. The azaleas are starting to bloom now, and that one shrub will provide brilliants dashes of pink, white, and red blossoms all over the city. It is truly the highight -- azaleas in full bloom. The trellis at the garden was purple with wisteria, and the oak tress are fast leafing out everywhere. How I love this time of year.

March 22, 2003

At the nature preserve today, the sun shone brightly and the wind blew fresh and clean over the marsh and waterfowl staging areas on a perfect srping day. Warm but mild. The air was so full of the essence of spring. I watched a red-shouldered hawk skim and soar on air currents, plus many smaller birds. Black grackles, with their distinctive call, reminded me of the beach.

The main trail along the dike to the swamp was closed so I walked toward the back of the preserve and then around to the upland settlement with its huge live oaks and from there to the spot where my car was parked. I thought again how fortunate I am to have this sanctary to retreat to in the midst of whatever mental and emotional tumult is going on in my life, or for an escape from the brutal realities of the outside world as the war in iraq rages on so many miles from this peaceful spot, and yet so near with it tragic reminders of how peace is so elusive and precious.

March 14, 2003

The other day it was a glorious early spring afternoon as I stood for awhile beneath a flowering Japanese magnolia on the college campus. I looked up to see lavender/pink blossoms against a blue sky. The wind was blowing some of the petals down to the street. The air was slightly cool. It felt especially good to be alive at that moment.

March 8, 2003

After days of rain and clouds, the sun is out this morning, bright and glorious with a backdrop of early spring blue skies. Gorgeous. I have been awaiting this day all week. The rains have been good for the soil and plants, so I am happy for that, but the gray skies were getting a bit dreary. Today, all that is washed away.

The big oak tree outside my window is sprouting new leaves, I have just noticed. The tranformation is alway quite marvelous and miraculous each March. I have watched the seasons come and go in that tree for 8 years now. It is my most familiar and comfortable window on a tiny portion of the world. But a window through which I see so much and am grateful.