Monday, May 12, 2025 37.5*
To herald the time for sun to shine: an orange stroke now pink in a blue cloudy sky. Five birds speak randomly to one another, perhaps it is a responsive reading, a prayer. Predicted frost did not appear. Soon the heated vest will hang in the closet, the batteries and charger will be forgotten in a drawer until fall.
Seasons (like life) are transitions they do not operate by light switches; they do not change according to calendar pages. Some days we want to go back to the familiar, the happy, the comfortable, the known, to the life we thought would always be. Some days we look forward to the mystery unfolding, we make plans for new beginnings.
There are days we think we missed it, we weren’t there at the right time, the right place. Like Soleil yesterday reflected in the pond for one brief moment. I could have easily missed it. Oh water, mysterious water. I have some of your attributes. I can rage. I can be peaceful. I can be reflective. I haven’t quite mastered moving obstacles out of my way going around or over them. I’m not very good at leaving things behind. I am not sure I am moving forward. Seasons change in their own time.
He said to them,
“It is not for you to know times or seasons
that the Father has fixed by his own authority.”
Acts 1:7 ESV
Photo: LJ Austin
