Spring

Walking home in the rain with my friend tonight, I realized that the trees budded the same week that Genny learned to crawl. Julie and I had paused outside my apartment building; I looked up at the baby green maple leaves glistening in the streetlight and noticed their startling growth.

Genevieve’s crawling skill has grown just as rapidly. She went from the smallest tentative crawls to choo-chooing down the entire hallway. I wonder if I have the patience to sit and watch a leaf grow; I wonder if I have the patience to sit and watch Genny improve her crawling technique.

I imagine when the leaves are fully-grown that Genny will be walking.

What will she be doing when the leaves' colors are fading?

And when the leaves are falling, which new skills will Genny be rising to?

If I were to link my own growth to the seasons, where would I be right now? What aspect of myself is budding right now? Perhaps my commitment to writing this blog mirrors the season. I have begun anew from where I stand. I so often hold off on starting things until the time is right, but then, of course, the time never ripens. I didn’t wait when I felt the drive this time. I allowed myself to spring forth and not hold back.

And now the summer hovers warmly just around the block.