Arriving home after being away for any length of time is always an exciting time. One set of eyes in our van - the driver's - stays glued to the road as we navigate the last few kms off of the highway and up the main boulevard to our neighborhood. The other eight eyes scan outside and look for any changes since our departure. Little voices pipe up from the peanut gallery:
"Hey, the Burger King closed down."When we left London last week, the landscape was gray and barren. The snow had already melted, but nothing green or colorful had yet sprouted.
"Why is the gas station being dug up?"
"Ooh, there are tulips growing in our garden? Where'd they come from?"
The world at home changed in our absence. The trees along the main road toward our house were decidedly green-tinged as we picked our way through traffic. My wife pointed out each tree that had seemingly exploded with life. The kids chimed in with their own observations of new flora.
Not wanting to plow into someone's rear bumper, I resisted joining them. So I mused about it instead. It's not as if life's starting from scratch, I thought. It's simply been dormant for a few months, lying invisibly below the surface. Spring's seeming rebirth is more a continuation of the circle of life than the beginning of something brand new.
I quicklly banished the logically technical train of thought as I enjoyed the singsong chitchat. My kids were excited about the changing world around them. Nothing else mattered.
Your turn: What does spring look like where you are? What does it mean to you?