It's a new season. With bursting joy and a tangible sense of renewal, it is Spring. The Earth abounds in subtle and delicate growth. The buds are long from blossoming, yet they hold within themselves the promise of new life and bounty. 'Tis the season for taking notice. Spring is nuanced: less obvious than Summer, less grandiose than Autumn, more vibrant than Winter. Spring is an intensely hopeful time for us. The parallels between nature and our faith are too similar to not remark on. We just entered into the spiritual / liturgical season of Easter. In our spiritual lives, we have made it through the 40-day Lenten season, with its sacrifices and longing, and now experience the 50-day Easter season — punctuated with celebration, joy, hope. The celebration of new life rests deeply in our hearts.

Mark and I walked about the farm and its expansive fields, from the barns to the beaver dams (note the images of Mark standing on a  stupendous dam, and of beaver handiwork on a tree); from the chicken coop to the hay fields. The scents were unfamiliar, stronger. If I could have cuddled every animal separately, I might've. My mind rang out the words of Lewis Carroll's Jabberwocky, "O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" (For the inquisitive, "frabjous" is a word coined by L.C. that is suspected to be the blending of fairfabulous and joyous. It is also a poem that my nun sister has been reciting from memory since her youth + recently recited in a letter.)

May this season breathe new hope + wonder into you, and may your frabjous days be plentiful.