I have an envelope of hard black things. When I hold them in my hands they feel like something that shouldn’t be discussed in mixed company.
Yes, they are seeds: hard, seemingly unyielding. The perfect container of hope. They have everything they need to travel, to grow, to eat, to digest, and to spread new life. With a little love, a handful of dirt and a splash of water, the change is miraculous. Within days a wee sprout pokes tiny green leaves through the hard desert dirt. New life.
New hope.…inevitable change
To me, this is the New Year, not Jauary 1st. The water lilies are unfurlingtheir leaves, the tortoise has come out of his hole, the baby sparrows are chirping, and the garden spiders are here to entertain with their symmetrical weavings. As I plant and water, my theme song is "Give peas a Chance."
But, lest, I be accused of waxing poetic:
Spring is also all about sex. Especially spring break. While I’m tossing my seeds into the flowerbed, college students toss their beachmates into the bed. I throw bread to the pidgeons; girls throw their bikini tops to the rock bands. The males compete for their females. Birds strut and show off their plumage. Females work to attract the male. Girls show off their legs, or new ink. We even shop for our new spring wardrobe. And if you’re young enough that your belly button hasn’t gone flat, you may even add a new jewel. But be careful, within a few days a wee sprout may start to grow.