March 19 (Redux)
I sent out the first COVID update on March 19th. It was the first day of spring. I laugh at what I thought I knew. So simple:
At 10:49 p.m. CST, the sun will cross the Equator. This marks the end of calendar winter and the beginning of calendar spring. I qualify ‘calendar spring’ because we know, in Door County, that temperature spring may not arrive for another five weeks—if it gets here at all.
Today is supposed to be a day of balance. The sun straddling the Equator, even if for only a moment. In the northern hemisphere it is a day of promise…lengthening days, warmer sun, disappearing snow piles, life stirring underground.
And it is. I noticed last week the pussy willow budding up by the Fearings. Today, I noticed hydrangea shoots pushing out of last year’s stubble. I also noticed the daffodil rising to the south of the sanctuary.
These are gentle, small, natural reassurances. Persephone has returned. Life will reawaken.
I do not have enough room to chronicle the things that I was wrong about on March 19th. It is a long list. Since then, I know people who have lost loved ones to the virus. Since then, I know people who have been tested negative for the virus. Since then, I know people who have tested positive for the virus.
I thought season would blend into season, that way would lead to way (Parker Palmer term), that quarantine would lead to life after quarantine. I believed that we would endure a few weeks of inconvenience. I believed that this pause would give us the opportunity to look deep and find our better selves.
Some of what I wrote that day proved true. We skipped spring and went right to summer. The buds gave way to leaves, the leaves gave way to blossoms, the blossoms gave way to fruit. The transitions continue.
And they will. We will learn trust. We will learn patience. We will learn tolerance. We will learn cooperation. When we do, life, abundant life, will reawaken in us and in all of creation.
Wear your mask!
I love you.
I need you.
I hope for you.
Please be safe.