*This post is part of a collaborative project - a year of stories shared by a group of 15 photographers every Tuesday in 2016. Please visit Allison Gipson after you read this post to continue the circle.*
“[Concerning hobbits]: But where our hearts truly lie is in peace and quiet and good tilled earth; for all Hobbits share a love of things that grow. And yes, no doubt to others our ways seem quaint. But today of all days it is brought home to me: it is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life.”
It was the first Saturday in April. Spring dipped her toes in the waters of life and those first leaves and petals emerged triumphant through the soil. There is nothing else on this earth like the promise that the color green gives us. This time of year always stirs my hope. Just as I've begun to despair of being surrounded by all the dead and brown that feels ever present (always winter, never spring), life renews, persevering triumphant still!
I have such fond memories of this fleeting time of year for every Spring my children have had. It's a fleeting period of the light. There is growth on the trees -- tiny, tender leaf buds bursting from the bark -- but it is just enough to barely filter the light. The infant foliage yields a different flavor to the light that we've tasted all winter, different than it will be in just a month's time when the leaves are full and robust, and filter much more strongly.
On this warm Saturday my Lady and I played in our yard with our puppies. The beauty of the new things growing around us beckoned to us. Brand new periwinkle covered the floor of our little woods behind the house, having seemingly emerged and bloomed overnight. We enjoyed each other's company and she, as she always does, reminded me to be carefree. The puppies romped and rolled all through the periwinkle (before the nasty ticks burrowed up through the soil to ruin the fun of our woods). She played in all sorts of manners with the tree swing and the hammock. And we laughed and laughed as the puppies became further acquainted with each other and the world.
It was nothing spectacular and yet it was every bit of spectacular all the same. To marvel in the wonder of a simple life -- a blessing, indeed.
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“And so, life in the Shire goes on, very much as it has this past Age: full of its own comings and goings, with change coming slowly, if it comes at all. For things are made to endure in the Shire, passing from one generation to the next.”
*This post is part of a collaborative project - a year of stories shared by a group of 15 photographers every Tuesday in 2016. Please visit Allison Gipson after you read this post to continue the circle.*