As the earth tips towards spring here in the northern hemisphere, there’s lots of greening here in our little wood. One of my favorite signs are the daffodils that were naturalized here and there before we arrived. This little plot of land is such an odd mix of care and neglect. We took it into our hearts when we first saw it much the way people might a stray animal, knowing we could re-home these stray acres and love them into something beautiful.
This weekend’s projects included hauling off two more loads of branches, transplanting a wayward cedar tree from my parent’s yard to ours, and finishing up a blueberry patch on the sunny side of the house. All of this work was done in the sunbreaks between rain showers and snow squalls.
Four of the six Lenten candles were lighted this morning on the altar at church. The pastor reminded us in her sermon that “Lent” comes from the Old English word for “lengthen.” Our faith lengthens during this season along with the days. All of this–the light, the unpredictable weather, and the new life that’s growing–are all signs of hope for me. This, ultimately, is resurrection: hope in a dark world for another year. Alleluia! Alleluia!
