Last year the winter was long. I think I have mentioned this, but it seemed, for me, so very, very long.
I had gone back to work after being a "stay at home" for too many years to count and I was very unhappy in my new job. But there were little glimmers of hope for me, even in that job that felt like a cage far too small to hold me. One of these, and let me remind you that these were LITTLE glimmers, was a picture on the wall of one of the classrooms that a child had taken of deep green maple leaves in his backyard during the previous summer. It was blurry. A horrible picture really, if one were to analyze it technically, but it so perfectly caught the color of deep summer leaves, the feeling of warmth and sweat, the smell of sun and grass, the feeling of ease and contentment that summer brings and the blur of small, happy memories. Each time I went into that classroom throughout the winter, I would gaze at that picture and imagine myself lying in the grass under those deep, luscious green leaves and dream about the return of summer.
But before the deep green comes the gold and it is a very fragile, tender moment.
I spent my early years in Wisconsin, so the changing of the seasons is nothing new to me. But moving to a state with 4 distinct seasons three years ago after having lived in California with its subtle seasonal shifts, has taught me to see every transition and every stage with brand new, wide awake eyes. It is beautiful really, the spiritual cycle of death, birth and new growth, even though I am not fond of the dark cold that inhabits the depth of winter months.
So in the spring, before the deep green, comes a tender, delicate golden green, just exactly as Robert Frost described it in his poem. I never truly understood what he meant before I moved east, of course there are also metaphorical implications to his poetry, but we can find so much insight in nature for the life we live. So this year, I have been trying to capture "the gold" digitally so you can see what I mean.
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
So leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief.
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
~Robert Frost
So melancholy...but like I said, I am looking forward to the deep green, leaf-subsiding-to-leaf stage (which you will just have to wait to pictorially enjoy until the middle of summer) as much as I am enjoying the first-green-is-gold stage! It is just important to enjoy each transition as much as we can while it lasts!
On a brighter note, it is dandelion season, in case you didn't notice from my photos. I have dandelions dotting the entire perimeter of my yard. It is so lovely and cheery!
Look at my lovely, birthday-love bouquet.
A humble gift from my favorite little boy. Doesn't he look proud...
...and oh-so-sweet? Don't you just adore these little love offerings? (Which again represents another level of meaning for Frost's poem...my little golden boy...I love him.)
I definitely saved the best for last in this, my golden post!
Have a golden day!
