seasons

Spring, finally. Officially at least, even if it is still 30-something degrees out there. One lonely crocus peeked its purple self up through the grass the other day, but before I could get back out to take a photo, some critter came along and munched it, so it will just have to live in my memory as proof that spring truly is here. Such is life on the edge of the woods.

I always associate spring with lightening. Not a misspelling of the flash followed by thunder, but just a sense of everything feeling lighter, less weighty, airy and bright. Cleaning out and shrugging off the old and tired. Emerging from a shell, vulnerable perhaps, but full of possibilities.

It’s that time of year when I go through things: closets, paperwork, stored boxes. This year especially, when I’ve worked so hard to reevaluate my time and energy obligations and have experienced some real growth in both of my businesses, it is especially liberating to shed things that no longer matter, that serve only to remind me of times when things weren’t quite so good. And to make room for the new.