It hasn't quite been a full year that we've lived in our home, so we are still experiencing the thrill of "firsts." Because of that, this first spring here is feeling particularly magical.
First Easter hosted at our home with Mom and Dad.
Spring is such a sign of hope, a reminder that life comes from death, what's old can be new again, and that for everything there is a season. Ok, I think I covered every cliche there, right? But seriously, the first spring in a new home and neighborhood is a special thing. Much like when the first leaves begin to change colors in the fall, seeing the first bulb push its stem up through the long frozen and barren ground is like a sigh of relief. Ah, we made it; change is here.
Since we moved into our house during the summer, we missed the blooming stage of most of the plants in our yard, so we didn't have a complete sense of what everything was. Because my judgment of plants goes a little like this: "Oh, pretty flowers, you're a keeper!" "Hmm, leaves and no flowers? You must be a weed." Case in point: while cleaning out some of our flower beds, we went a little hacking crazy and pulled out what to me seemed to be ugly weedy things, which in reality were beautiful hellebores past their blooming stage.
Whoops. But hey, I'm learning! Don't judge a plant by its flowers (or lack thereof).
Spring sometimes feels like magic to me. How can something that experienced snow and freezing temperatures for months come back to life so beautifully, effortlessly and abundantly? We planted daffodil bulbs in the fall, and I swear when the first ones started peaking through I did a little happy dance like, "Oh my gosh, they worked!"
So here's to you, Spring, for doing what you do so well.
This season brings even more excitement as we eagerly await the arrival of our first nephew. We'll be going to New York in two weeks to meet him. We can't wait to meet you, Baby Boy T, so come on out whenever you're ready!
