NEW BEGINNINGS

It’s had a hard time getting here this year, perhaps that is why I’m so conscious of every sign of Spring I see. I’m not sure we won’t still see another snow storm and we’re not safe yet from fruit-killing frost, but tulips are blooming, the trees are glorious with their blossoms and pale new leaves, the lawn is a lush green needing to be mowed, and we’re ready to plant a garden. Last week we traveled to Twin Falls and along the way we saw tractors and seeders in the fields, the smell of smoke from burning ditch banks filled the air, and long-legged marsh birds waded in ponds where fuzzy ducklings and goslings trailed their mothers. Spring---I love this season of new beginnings. I’m ready to plant something.
The summer before I turned nine, a flood made our house unlivable, so we went to live in an old house on a neighbor’s property for the summer. There were ten of us in that tiny, unpainted shack with no running water. On a fishing trip to the mountains a short time later I found a pretty little pine tree. I wanted to keep it so I dug it up and brought it home. (That’s not allowed now.) It was only about a foot high. The man who owned the farm and house where we were staying persuaded me to plant it near the house where we were living so I could water and watch over it better than back at our house which we might not ever be able to live in again. He told me something that day that has never left me. He said a person who plants a tree has greater faith than anyone else. You have to believe in tomorrow and trust in the future to bother planting a tree. That little tree became a symbol of better things to come. We moved away that fall and I’ve never been back, but I’ve heard from others that the tree flourished and grew to a huge size. Since then I’ve planted many trees. Just last year my husband and I planted a peach tree. Each spring I think of that little pine tree and all the trees and plants I’ve planted and nurtured since. I relish each new beginning and consider each a promise that tomorrow will come, something better is coming.
It’s not January first with its frosty cold calling out for hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and a warm fire to snuggle near that prompts me to make resolutions and to begin a new weight loss program. Not at all. This is the season, Spring, when I crave garden vegetables, to walk in the sun and dig in the dirt, to go places, and do things that shed pounds. Summer clothes provide a much clearer hint, too, than do winter ones, that I should stick to a diet and exercise program and I assure myself that digging grass and weeds from my flower beds, planting new flowers, and finding the right spot for zucchini and tomatoes is just as good as a workout at the gym. You can have New Years; I'll take Spring.

Spring makes me want something new to wear, to try a new hairstyle, to clean my closets, to plant seeds, and fly a kite. It lifts my spirits and makes me believe in myself. I want to write better; I want to review better; I want to be a better friend, and I want to do more with my family.

This spring seemed awfully slow getting here, but now that it has arrived it has brought so many new possibilities with it. I’m going to find some kind of vine with trailing red blossoms to plant at the top of my rock garden. I’m going to divide my perennials to help my daughter plant gardens around her new home. I think I’ll give her a tree for her birthday. I’m going to place a comfortable reading chair beneath a maple tree. I’m going to try writing on my laptop on the deck instead of in my office. I’m going to take a grandchild or two to the Jordan Parkway to feed the baby ducks. My daughters and I are going to the tulip festival at Thanksgiving Point this weekend.

The Whitney Gala Saturday night held a touch of spring for me. Awards were given to writers who have already accomplished a great deal, but the air was filled with a sense of blossoming hope and dreams for the future on the faces of so many new writers. As older friendships were renewed, new ones were formed. Resolutions were made to someday stand at the front of that room with an award in hand. Though I didn’t receive an award this year, I felt that I had, as so many people whose work I have reviewed introduced themselves to me and expressed appreciation for the reviews I’d given them. It made me feel the way I felt when someone told
me how big and beautiful my little pine tree had grown.

It’s Spring! The planting season is here. It’s time to plant a garden, nourish a child, bring to life a dream. It’s a time to hope, to believe, and to start anew.