Posts Tagged ‘wind’

spring winds

March 5, 2012

March has arrived in all its blustery glory. The saying is that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. Unfortunately, here in Nebraska, this lion is slow and grouchy and usually he crouches and leaps his way into April as well. Perhaps he eats the lamb, or frightens it into hiding, (although lambs aren’t smart enough to hide . . .) but I digress.

Even though March is still cold and the wind is annoyingly persistent, just the calendar turning from February to March brings me hope. Our wind chimes are being beaten to death, our stacked and covered yard furniture gets pushed along the porch, covers billowing loudly and our poor trees are being given a brutal lashing! The weather is nastier than all of December through February combined, minus the snow, but that could still come!  Even then, I’m hopeful because each day brings me one step closer to the warmth and flowering beauty of True Spring (which for me is warm 72-75 degree days, sunny, barely breezy and perfectly pleasant, which amounts to about 10 days total in a year, only making me savor them more!)

It seems my life has imitated the weather this year. My heart has taken a beating – losing my trainer, and then my brother; almost losing my other brother and all this after having lost my father a year ago. Life is hard; real life isn’t for wimps. It’s brutal sometimes and the winds feel as though they will be my undoing, but here I am, clinging to life. The sap inside begins to loosen, soften and flow and I find that warmth is returning to my spirit and life to my bones!

Springtime reminds me there is always hope. Life after death, songs after silence, laughter after tears. Life as it was may never be again, but life is still good despite it’s difficulty.

The advent of Spring always retrains my focus. It reminds me to look for the hopeful and celebrate the good. I will always remember the sorrow, but I choose to leave it behind and find new joy. As the crocuses sprout up and the forsythia bloom, my heart begins to delight in all things new and fresh and lovely as I anticipate the days of True Spring which will inevitably come!


life metaphor

November 13, 2010

Yesterday I posted about the red maple in my yard. I mentioned how I can relate to it as a cancer survivor. As I reread my entry, I realized just how similar to my life its story is! Two different storms, losing two limbs. Pardon the TMI, but having cancer twice, two different types, and finally enduring a radical bilateral mastectomy was traumatic. And, like my persevering red maple dropping its leaves, losing my hair twice caused me to feel as though all my splendor had vanished for good. Fortunately, leaves and hair both grow back!

Interestingly, a few days ago, I wrote a poem about the changing trees. It wasn’t until I’d finished it that I thought, “This is a metaphor for my life.” I thank God that the storms have made me stronger. My spiritual and emotional roots have forced their way deeper, and daily I’m experiencing gratitude and  joy like I never did before!


raw chill

absent thrill

rising sun drags in the dawn

illuminating battered, tattered leaves

survivors of brutal whipping winds

beautifully radiant in a painfully apologetic way



trees will soon be bare

cold and dark


splendor blown away

stately stature’s glory gone


spring will come, will reappear

it always does, I needn’t fear

splendor restored

warms the chill and eases pains

a new day comes, fresh and full of hope

November survivor

November 12, 2010

November, despite it’s chilly gray days, is one of my favorite months. This probably has something to do with the fact that it’s my birthday month. Regardless, it happens to be the middle of November right now. It’s nearly freezing outside and gray and wet and a perfect day to remind myself that I love November!

I wrote this entry in my journal November 7th:

‘A slight breeze rattles the few remaining leaves. These last 4 or 5 days have been brutally and wearily windy. The trees put up a good fight but lost most of their color. Their glory blew away, but they remain, steadfast. The wind won the skirmishes but the trees have won over all.

The red maple took two major hits this summer – losing two large branches – each in a different storm. It now looks awkward, disproportioned – but it seems to have developed an attitude. It’s growing new limbs that have outreached the others in an attempt to regain balance. As lopsided as it looks, it’s a survivor, and I can appreciate that!

I have to be honest. That red maple hasn’t been one of my favorite trees in the yard. It’s not in a good spot and it’s kind of gangly and in the way. But knowing it survived some powerful storms, I’ve gained respect for it. I feel a kinship of sorts. I’ve decided I’d like it to stay. It’s earned a place because it’s a survivor, just like me.’