Spring rain

I don’t know about you, but I actually enjoy rainy days in springtime.

To me, spring rains feel like a gift from the Earth, a kind and generous gift. Unlike the bone-chilling rains of November, these raindrops bring the promise of sunshine and warmer temperatures soon to come. But most importantly, these rainy days bring life with them: that glorious greenness that I love about the Mid-Atlantic and flowers, wonderful flowers, including the delightful-smelling lovelies pictured below.

So instead of groaning (or even cursing) about the rain, let’s try to smile about the beauty it will bring. Happy spring rain! 🙂

White hyacinth blooms
The first of the heavenly scents has arrived: hyacinths.


Harbingers of spring

Teased by a short, glorious early warmup, many people in my part of the world are wishing aloud for the “real” spring to show up. (Of course, by that they mean sunny days and much warmer temperatures—which is probably jumping to late spring, but you get the idea.)

I have to agree, having had my fill of needing the heat turned on in the house and putting a winter coat on for the short walk to the mailbox. Apparently at some point in my life I became a wuss. But that, luckily for you, is not the subject of today’s entry.

Every year, we eagerly anticipate spring. We rejoice when we see the early flowers blooming: the tiny crocuses peeking through the dead leaves in flower beds, the forsythia bursting yellow in neatly trimmed hedges or natural wild abandon, and, finally, the daffodils, too numerous to count in my neighborhood. These bright spots of color remind us that the crunchy brown of the dead grass and the cheerless gray of the sky will soon be replaced by brilliant greens and blues. Curly lime-colored leaves will soon start filling in the now-bare trees, and once again, we will be surrounded by luxurious awe-inspiring growth. Somehow it makes us all feel better; it reminds us that we too can start again. It is, truly, a wonderful time of year.

But this year I was struck by something I never really gave much thought to. Those harbingers of spring, those first flowers that appear—they tend to be quite delicate, in appearance anyway. Those tiny crocuses with their spindly almost non-existent leaves—how do they survive the cold, even the snow? How is that possible? I’m sure there’s a scientific explanation for this phenomenon, but I’m more interested in what it can teach us.

It made me think of my mom. I’ll never forget hearing, years ago, a dear friend of the family say my mother was the meekest person he knew. He meant it as a compliment, following it up with a comment about the meek inheriting the Earth. And he was right. She doesn’t make a grand entrance; she is never the loudest voice in the room. But she is also the strongest person I know. Without complaining, without looking for anyone’s pity or usually anyone’s help in any way, she has cared for a husband and five children, co-run a business, and survived hardships with grace. With a smile on her face, she’s always ready to lend a hand and be of service in any way she can. And she does it all without calling attention to herself. Like the crocus, she demonstrates that real strength is modest. It is quiet and can easily go unnoticed. But if we pay attention, we see the beauty: the true beauty of standing strong while being flexible enough to remain in harmony with the life that surrounds us.

These "snowdrops" are the first to appear at my house and usually end up with snow on top of them.
Yellow Crocus
Crocuses are such joyful little flowers. Woohoo! Spring is coming!


Spring harbingers
I can't remember what these are called. I think the bulb package had only the Latin name, which was way too long to commit to memory.


Forsythia Adirondacks
A cascade of yellow, fresh flowers and peeling paint, brightens up the backyard.


No regrets

God bless my friends.

Obviously there are many benefits to having good friends, something I’m learning more and more as I grow older. But one of the many benefits, in my mind at least, is discovering new music through those friends. And being a person of eclectic musical taste, I’m grateful to say that I have a friend base with a wide range of musical preferences.

Just the other day, a friend shared a YouTube video of a band I had never heard of: 30 Seconds to Mars. I was so excited to see the lead singer was Jared Leto, whom I had previously known only as a wonderful actor (with AMAZING, AMAZING, AMAZING eyes). Did you get that?  There’s an example of beauty for you. Anyway, I digress…

The song featured in the video? “Closer to the Edge.”  The energy of this song is amazing. The video pans concert arenas around the globe as 30 Seconds to Mars takes and owns the stage, complete with Jared sporting a fuschia-tipped mohawk and crowd-surfing. I don’t think it’s possible to keep from pumping your fists along with the audience members as they scream “No! No!” This is definitely the song to put on when you need a jolt of energy.

But in the midst of the song’s in-your-face no-apologies attitude, the video includes moments of extreme sensitivity. Kids offer touching, sometimes heartbreaking, statements about the fleeting nature of life, what they wish for the planet (but don’t believe is possible), and what music means to them. One echoes my philosophy exactly:  “My philosophy in life is don’t regret anything you do because, in the end, it makes you who you are.”

No regrets, only learning experiences. The key is to actually learn from them.

Closer to the Edge, by 30 Seconds to Mars (on YouTube)

Warning: Watching this video may cause crazy dancing.


Welcome to my mind.

One of the dangers of an active mind is having nothing to do with all the jabbering going on up there. So far, talking to myself has achieved little other than garnering some very strange looks, so I thought I’d start this blog.

No, seriously.

Actually, that is partially true.

But I also, on occasion, have a thought or photo that I think others may enjoy. And so I offer this blog as a way to potentially entertain and inspire you. (Note the “potentially” in there. I offer no guarantees.)

Topics you may encounter in this blog: nature, beauty, art, music, serenity… and lots of photos, as I have found taking pictures a wonderful way to capture my view of the world and its beauty. Nothing is out of the realm of possibility, but I would like to keep this blog on the positive side, as there are already plenty of places you can find people complaining about the state of things.

With peace and gratitude, I thank you for your interest.



Laguna tree
I loved the character of this tree and the surrounding plants up above Laguna Beach.


Musings by Carmen Walsh