As I’ve shared before, for Hilary’s nature study, we’re walking the same trail once a month this year…recording the changes; looking for the nuances of the seasons. Well, I think we’ll be going twice in May, because April just did not happen. I put the walk off too long, and with the end of the month falling during Holy Week… So, we had a lovely Bright Week visit to our trail to check on things. Last time, the geese were attentively building their nests, so we had high hopes for what we would find. We weren’t disappointed.
Babies, babies everywhere. Admittedly, not as many as in years past. Lots of adults with no babies, but we were glad to see what we did.
I don’t have to reach far to make connections between Pascha and all the new life we saw. This late Pascha has fit in quite well with the arrival of spring here in the north. Winter has been a challenging season. Birth, resurrection, and the smell of green clinging to the world around me are such welcome visitors.
The adult geese were doing a lovely cooperative parenting job, minding each other’s babies in one collective group. This poor little guy caught my eye as he got separated from the others and ran at near lightning speed to rejoin the safety of the flock. But why the urgency? What did he have to be so afraid of?
Now, she said she wouldn’t actually try to pick one up. She said it multiple times quite emphatically. The geese and I weren’t so confident of her intentions.
Great Lent is the time to get us back on track. A kick in the rear. A motivation. I welcome that time, but I admit, it seems to be that the real motivation sometimes doesn’t come until Pascha. Holy Week runs like a freight train of service after service, immersing me in the awareness that all my efforts weren’t even close to all I have to give. The work isn’t over. It’s just time to fight these spiritual battles in a different season, reminded of and comforted by the glorious weapons of the Cross and the empty tomb.
New life is here. Time pushes on and the daily struggle goes on. Daily struggle, but also daily celebration. As I looked around me at the new babies and my own babies all grown up, I thanked God for life. As hard and as dirty and as ugly as it can be, it’s a beautiful thing. Even when tragedy and death and destruction abound, there is life everywhere…perhaps hidden, perhaps hard to recognize, but still there. Lord, thank you for birth, rebirth and resurrection. I’ve walked with You to the Cross. I’ve sat by Your tomb. I’ve rejoiced at Your Resurrection. Let me be resurrected today. Let me be new. I’ve been in the tomb. But You have given me life!
Christ is Risen! Indeed, He is Risen!