This past week my David Austin roses have began to awake from their slumber! Making this my favorite time in my garden. And now more than ever, I’m finding peace and solace in this little place me and my family have grown together…and grown together in. I recently read an article about how people will more than likely forget what living in this pandemic felt like. Which isn’t that a funny thought…so often when something big…good or bad happens, you’re sure you will never.ever. forget exactly how you felt or what it was like. For example, with my own children, as my twins began to slowly speak their first words, I was sure that in that moment of time there would be no way in the world in which I would forget their sweet sounds and the order in which they accomplished new little words. And alas, as life always does it keeps moving forward. And those first sweet words were soon replaced by first sweet phrases…then sentences…now stories. Too many amazing beautiful memories for one mind to hold on to entirely…although I’m sure somewhere in there is a vault filled will even the minutest of details.
For me, that’s Spring in my garden. It starts slowly, sharing glimpses here and there of natures sweetness. Then bam. All at once. Like a gush of cool water, fills the air with it’s sweet scents, the eyes with an array of color and artwork and the ears filled with the sweet sounds of nature. I’m sure in these weeks, that I will never.ever.ever. forget how sweet it feels to be emerged into Spring.
And alas, it too fades away into new beautiful things. Summer’s vivid hues and hot sweltering temps. Fall’s crisp air and weekends filled with pumpkins and leaf peeping. And yet, while here in Spring…I can’t quite wrap my head around the exact feeling those other seasons bring. Instead, I’m here…doing the best I can, to witness this present. To be grateful for what I have, right now, in this moment. To consider maybe now is the time to finally start a journal, so that I too won’t forget, exactly what it is this Spring in Quarantine is like. And then I think…well maybe this is exactly it. Written right here, to you, from me. A photo of a garden. A picture of this rose. The memory of waking up each morning with coffee in hand, a favorite brass watering lance at work, kids and a dog frolicking around the yard. A baby who’s learned to walk…now run. A husband hard at work in a greenhouse typing and zooming away. Lunch together as a family. Chalk drawings, and bike rides. Picking of flowers and eating of fresh mint. Dinner together, books, then a fight to go to bed (for Spring evenings are the best for staying up late so my twins remind me)…and then finally, the chance to end the day…grateful for another day with good health, grateful for time being close as a family and grateful for the chance that tomorrow we will do it all again. And while this time time does come with it’s many challenges, unknowns and fears, it’s these daily moments in our garden that bring me the most solace, peace of my mind and in my heart, and somehow, it’s this version of this horrible time, I hope that my mind will choose to remember.
I hope you too are finding solace during this time. Making good memories among all that is uncertain, and scary, and sad. Somehow, still believing that this too shall pass, and in it’s place will be more that life will bring.
While I don’t want to forget this moment in time, I’m hoping that somehow, I’m able to carry with me the good that this time so graciously brought to me and my family. Our health and evenings spent in our little garden that we grew and where we all will continue to grow for more and more seasons to come.
Above all else, I’m wishing you and yours good health during this time friends and hoping you too are finding joy in the ordinary during this time in quarantine.