Spring Has Sprung

Although I can still hear it, I can no longer see the highway from my apartment. Until Fall strips the leaves from the trees, I will have to rely on traffic reports to know what's happening on this portion of interstate.

I've always lived in urban and suburban areas. Maybe that's why Spring always seems to sneak up on me, even as I am aware of flowers and budding trees. One day I look out the window, and suddenly everything is green.

Spring, the promise of new beginnings.

And yet, for most of my life, Spring has meant endings. Twenty-five years spent in academic settings, and an additional eight-and-a-half immersed in the rhythm of church program calendars. Spring is a time of taking tests, packing up, and leaving. Most of my relationships ended during the Spring months, including the only serious relationship I had with a girl when I was in high school.

Spring, a time of memories and ghosts.

But as the Spring rains wash away the debris left by Winter storms, I lift my face to the skies to let them wash across me and experience the wonder of life.