I'd gotten up early one morning not-so-very-long-ago and slipped on a robe because the house was cold and I had to be the ogre who dragged the children from their cozy beds to get ready for school that day. (When I could barely rouse my own self.) But, ugh. It was my duty. I couldn't make Dan do it; he'd gotten up for early Mass and taken early-bird Gabe with him, so someone had to get the rest of the gang going. (Stretch, snarl, snort.) I found my slippers and made my way around the house, aiming in a stumbly, yawny way for the stairs.
The sun had risen just enough to outline the big eastern window over the dining room table, but the air was thin and the light, grey. Squinting out, I hoped for some hint of budding on the trees. I willed myself to see some green out there. But... (sigh) Alas. Nothing. Looking out the patio doors in the living room, I peered into our neighbors' orchard, but it didn't look any more hopeful. Not a hint of a bud or blossom. The apple and pear and peach trees were as dead to the world as the snoozing kids upstairs. (Again, I sigh.) The mud of the most recent snow trailed across the mudroom (man is that place aptly named!), and a pile of coats lay half collapsed on a chair just inside the kitchen door. And, oh, looky! There you are, lovely, sturdy, dependable coffee pot! I yearned for a cup of coffee to take the chill off (body and soul!). But it was barely past Laetare Sunday. And. I had given up coffee for Lent. Fooey. The drear seemed never. ending.
Then, I don't know exactly when it happened, but the days passed.
Don't ask me...
I don't know.
It's a blur now.
But. all-of-a-sudden ------ SPROING!
And here it is! Here we are!
And I want to go on record, officially, before all creation (at least all creation on the internet, that happens by here) as saying: Thank-You, God. Thank-You, thank-You, thank-You!
The air is soft this morning, the light golden and pink; outside our morning bright windows, the willows are waving their joyously verdant fronds; the elms and cottonwood are juggling armloads of green confetti budlets; the orchard is awake, stretching and spinning en pointe in pink and white tutus; and the mud (at least for the present) is dried up, swept out and mopped away. There are no more winter coats sprawled about the house, but a half dozen bikes have sprouted up in the driveway and gossipy little groupings of lawn chairs have gathered in cozy circles on the patio and porch.
Easter has come; Our Lord is risen; Springtime is here; God's in His Heaven; all's right with the world; and Yours Truly is sitting here drinking a cup of coffee!
And I toast you with this cup of coffee!