The poem I am going to write has the line ‘the orchards will dance with blossoms’. I don’t know how the rest of the poem goes. I’m waiting for the buds to redden in the strengthening April sun. I’m waiting for the swelling and the greening and the clustering.
I was caught by this headline, “DC's cherry blossoms reached peak bloom on March 20, 2020”. The headline came from cherryblossomwatch.com and referred to the Washington DC, not Door County DC. We are still weeks away from the swelling, greening, clustering, and blossoming. They will happen. They will.
The inevitability taunts me. In this in between season of waiting for EVERYTHING, the word ‘will’ offers little comfort. We will start new beginnings. Ecologies and economies will recover. Families and communities will reunite with many tears and much joy. Some will suffer heartache, sorrow, and loss. For now, the things that will be seem too far off, suddenly too undependable.
Things are not always as they seem. A cardinal sings to the setting sun. Tulips or daffodils or crocus (I’m better at bird ID, than plants) pop up along the southern wall of the church. A cherry orchard also stirs to life—a slower, less aggressive awakening.
Soon the peepers will peep, longingly searching for a mate. Soon the parks will fill with laughter. Soon the orchards will dance with blossoms. They will.
What of you and I? What will we do? Who will we be when this is over? We WILL be shaggier, less kempt versions of our old selves. Will we be stronger? Wiser? Less cautious? Too cautious? More grateful? Less stressed? More patient? Less tolerant? Will we return to the old days and our old ways? Will we see new possibility, where now we see only impossibility?
Those questions wait at The End of these days, but their answers form in us and around us now. Who we will be and how we will be are rooted in the compassion we afford, the love we share, the time we give, the tears we shed.
Make no mistake, our tears will bring flowers (tulips or daffodils or crocus or whatever they are); our time will not be wasted; our love will show a more excellent way; our compassion will alter a generation. They will. Just as surely as the orchards will dance with blossoms, because they will.
I love you.
I hope for you.
Please be safe.