What a sight to behold

Having spent a week in the tropics, it was difficult to return and adjust to the cooler and wetter spring weather. The days have been gloomy and gray. About a month ago, Bill planted a small red bud tree. It is his baby. I caught him outside sweet talking it, and I swear the next day it bloomed with little pinkish purple buds, then a few days later there were tiny green leaves. Yeah, I really do know how it works, but I like to think a little sweet talk helped.

Across the street from our home is a five acre truck farm. The two gentlemen farmers have lived there all of their lives. They used to open the 4'X8' wooden lids on their in-ground flower boxes, revealing a field of pansies. Then they would work sunrise until sunset planting their fields with tomatoes and other vegetables. We heard car horns constantly as passersby waved at the farmers. 

Now the gentlemen are elderly and frail. We don't see them outside anymore. It is extremely quiet in our neighborhood. Their cousins come to mow the fallow fields. It is a sad sight, a sign of an impending end. That is why we rejoiced so much when the little red bud burst forth with new life.

We took a walk last evening. The cold air penetrated our thin jackets. I was feeling all melancholy about beginnings and endings. Especially ends. It was at a low point as we walked down the block that I received a glimmer of hope.

The tree in a neighbor's yard with its brand new growth made me think of what's to come. I wish I had a lush tree like this in our yard so I could park myself under it and read a book. Our little red bud will provide shade for another family when we are gone. 

These were my depressing thoughts when suddenly, an ominous black cloud  back lit the neighbor's tree. Impossible, because the sun was setting in the farmer's field across the street.  I'm sure there is some meterologic explanation, but to me it was a gift. And so I raised my eyes and said, "Thank You."