Today, I am thankful for hope that grows in my winter garden.
In the middle of winter the buds prepare for spring.
Thank you, God, for unceasing life.
The dull, brown stalks of spent hydrangeas mirror my spent spirit.
Yet green and blue and pink colors dance in my mind's eye for the spring within and without about to come.
I feel your presence in pealing cathedral bells, in insistent cawing crows, in intricate yellow petals of January forsythia, in new growth heralding coming spring.
Thank You, God, for hope.
~ Marian Wright Edelman
My garden in the middle of winter. No flowers. No lovely colors or heady fragrances. No butterflies or hummingbirds. No weeds to pull or grass to mow. Instead, tall spikey stems with tufts of dried leaves rise above the mulched and snow-patched earth.
I am not concerned. My plants are just doing what they do best in the winter - lying dormant while gathering strength and storing nutrients in anticipation of this year's spring and summer growth spurts.
Hope for new life.
Faith in a seed.
A new generation.
Creation, beauty, art.
All of this grows in my garden during the winter.
I am not the artist, merely the caretaker. Mother Nature will soon use my garden plots as the canvas for her annual masterpiece. This year, I feel that she will paint something extraordinary.
For this blessing, I am grateful.