I’m sitting here with a cup of coffee in my hand looking out the window at a beautiful Texas spring day. The sun is shining, my white curtains are blowing in the breeze and it is really quite lovely. I have to admit, nothing I’ve seen can top a Texas spring day when the wildflowers are in bloom.
We all love spring, even those of us who like the winter. Innately, spring is not just the end of winter, but also a time for new beginnings. Love and life is in the air. It’s exhilarating, refreshing and filled with hope.
I think that spring takes on personal symbolism. When I say spring, a thousand different things may come to a thousand different minds. When I think of spring I think of cookouts, corn on the cob and watermelon. But to me, spring symbolizes so much more than the end of winter and the beginning of the outdoor fun. To me it is linked to going places, doing things, packed bags and airplanes. Adventure and exotic places. It brings an anticipation that has been unrealized for quite some time now. It leaves me feel strangely at odds with myself. I delight in the spring, but I feel a discontentment with the immobility of my life.
Every spring I pull out the movie Under the Tuscan Sun and sigh over the views of Italy, my favorite place on the planet. I reminisce about my time in Italy and I dream about a day when I might live there. It fans the dormant embers of adventure inside of me and I find myself browsing for overseas teaching positions, relief work, anything that will get these feet back on the path of new places, the exotic and the un-normal.
Unfortunately, between three little kids and school debt, the adventuresome life must sit on the backburner, and the wanderer in me must learn to stay put with as much grace as possible. Most of the time, that works, but in the spring, with a plane flying overhead . . . sigh. I do miss going places! 🙂
What does spring symbolize for you? What is the first thing that comes to your mind? Or does it take a bit more reflection like it does for me?