It’s that time of year and that kind of day.
The skies are bright and the birds are singing about it. As I pulled open the front door and stepped into this gorgeous morning, a Cardinal flew so closely to me, I felt as if it might land on my shoulder, Snow White style. And although I know that these beautiful red creatures are of the male variety, still, I think of my mother, knowing that her spirit continues to live within that flash of red — and within every burst of color, every new life awakening on this blue sky day.
What a winter it has been. Icy and cold, without enough snow (or perhaps too much for some of us) and walks that are dreaded rather than celebrated. Oh, the frigid months, when even the dogs pull for home, curl up on couches, on beds, waiting for the warmer weather. It’s been more than just a New England winter, too. With a pandemic that simply will not disappear and the violence of war making our world feel fragile, unstable, it is easy to spiral into sadness, our own and that of our world.
And yet there is hope, so much hope. There are Cardinals singing and buds beginning. There seems to be an overwhelming response to humanitarian aid requests from the people in Ukraine, calls of “how can I help?” and “what can I do?” Melrose’s own Aliona, in coordination with Sunflower of Peace, wrote a simple request on social media and the medical supplies poured in, with City Hall bursting with packages and a need for trucks and vans to transport to central locations, to finally, finally make it to the people who are in such need, such crisis. A small blossoming of goodness to be gathered together with other such glimmers from all reaches of our country, our world. We are divided in so many ways, but appear united in this: “How can we help?”
This morning, I emerged from my home, from my quiet and solitary writerly life to head to a local elementary school. Sitting in for the office manager, I spent the days joyfully soaking in the reemergence of faces: toothless grins and wide smiles, laughing and talking and less need to strain to hear names and wonder about expressions. As surely as those leaves prepare to paint our springtime trees, those newly exposed faces make me think of new life, rebirth. We are getting there. We are becoming and growing and moving forward with greater knowledge, more humility, an eagerness for “back to normal,” but an understanding that things change, life evolves.
Winter is still with us. There will be unexpected snow showers, cold weather. There will be mud and setbacks. We know, we hearty New Englanders know that March will always be March and lions have a way of overstaying their welcome. But the Cardinals are singing, the medical supplies are in transit, smiles are showing and blue skies are ahead. God Bless. Happy Friday.
