In the week preceding Easter, journeys with friends reminded me of the joys of childhood’s egg hunts.
On these adult expeditions, we searched for–and found–secret glories which we could have easily missed.
My friend Betty and I delighted in finding the cross vine pictured below and the happy turtles pictured above at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center in Austin:
Back at home in our corner of the Texas hill country, my horseback riding friends and I took turns spying lace hedgehogs among the emerging grass.
We also remembered the location of last year’s claret cups and found them to be blooming as well.
Later on, I explored in the pasture alone, looking for butterfly eggs on antelope horn milkweeds.
And chokecherry blooms right along the path found me:
All of this–familiar trails, dear friends, April dressed in its finest, the return of spring, reminders of rejuvenation and joy–makes me celebrate with the poet E. E. Cummings:
around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection
And, amazingly, I am a part of it.
* * * *
What secret glories of spring have you been noticing?
What lines of poetry cause celebration in your own heart? In what ways?