Quail roosted in a pine tree close to my office window all winter. They are gone now, off making a family somewhere. Soon they will be double time marching across my road with a fleet of fuzzball babies who quickly grow and leave the nest.
If it’s a good year, they will do it all over again amidst the wild sunflowers that line my road in the fall. Not longer after, when the snow starts falling again, they will roost in the pine tree close to my office window, fluffed up against the cold to mark the passing of another year.
This is the best way to tell time. I haven't seen any crocuses making an appearance here yet. But the snowdrops are here and I was so glad to see them!
First crocus spotting for me today, too! Of all places, they are growing in the garden of my aggressively unwelcoming neighbor. Ha! I can find joy anywhere!
What a beautiful reminder of what really matters in marking the seasons of our lives: not the clock, the experiences, within and without. Thank you for sharing the crocuses of today, and your crocus post from your first spring in Belgium. What gifts!
Our clock / calendar runs differently here. The ground is mostly covered deeply with snow still. There is a small edge of ground by my back door that melts early and gets lots of sun where I transplanted snowdrops several years ago to give myself a little late winter hope. Not even the tiniest of green points yet, but I'll keep looking, because this is how I tell time too.
I don't have crocuses, but I do have a dependable patch of daffodils. They announce the arrival of spring along with the first pink buds of our red bud trees. I loved this the first time, and even more the second time around. This is how we are meant to measure time, to measure a life. Thank you.
Here, where I am waiting for autumn to arrive and the days of midsummer seem to be lasting forever, I take a moment to remember the snowdrops and the crocuses that used to lighten the world as spring began to make an appearance back when I was a child and would walk in the park near their home with my grandparents. A beautiful way to tell time.
Marking life by the changes of seasons.
Quail roosted in a pine tree close to my office window all winter. They are gone now, off making a family somewhere. Soon they will be double time marching across my road with a fleet of fuzzball babies who quickly grow and leave the nest.
If it’s a good year, they will do it all over again amidst the wild sunflowers that line my road in the fall. Not longer after, when the snow starts falling again, they will roost in the pine tree close to my office window, fluffed up against the cold to mark the passing of another year.
This is the best way to tell time. I haven't seen any crocuses making an appearance here yet. But the snowdrops are here and I was so glad to see them!
Beautiful
First crocus spotting for me today, too! Of all places, they are growing in the garden of my aggressively unwelcoming neighbor. Ha! I can find joy anywhere!
This is beautiful, inspiring and hopeful. Thank you for the way you see, feel and share!
What a beautiful reminder of what really matters in marking the seasons of our lives: not the clock, the experiences, within and without. Thank you for sharing the crocuses of today, and your crocus post from your first spring in Belgium. What gifts!
This story may have been how I first found you.
Our clock / calendar runs differently here. The ground is mostly covered deeply with snow still. There is a small edge of ground by my back door that melts early and gets lots of sun where I transplanted snowdrops several years ago to give myself a little late winter hope. Not even the tiniest of green points yet, but I'll keep looking, because this is how I tell time too.
I love that 🥰
Yes! The best way to tell time!
Oh my goodness, Iove everything about this! What a beautiful way of telling a story and telling time. 🌻🦋❤️
This is a lovely way to tell time and a beautiful way to share the beauty of life with your children. 💜
That sounds like the best way to share with my granddaughters how to tell time!
I love your crocus paintings. They're so lovely :)
So hopefully, Candace! Perfect time to report this illustrated essay!
I don't have crocuses, but I do have a dependable patch of daffodils. They announce the arrival of spring along with the first pink buds of our red bud trees. I loved this the first time, and even more the second time around. This is how we are meant to measure time, to measure a life. Thank you.
Here, where I am waiting for autumn to arrive and the days of midsummer seem to be lasting forever, I take a moment to remember the snowdrops and the crocuses that used to lighten the world as spring began to make an appearance back when I was a child and would walk in the park near their home with my grandparents. A beautiful way to tell time.
I liked this