“See! The winter is past;
    the rains are over and gone.
 Flowers appear on the earth;
    the season of singing has come,
the cooing of doves
    is heard in our land.
 The fig tree forms its early fruit;
    the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
Arise, come, my darling;
    my beautiful one, come with me.”

Song of Songs 2: 11-13

One of the things I enjoy most about springtime is how the season stretches out over a couple of months rather than landing all at once. It seems like every day there is something else that pops out, catches my attention, and declares “Here we go!”

Even the shadows subtly change: with the angle of the sun, with the time of the day, with the movement of the clouds, with the number of leaves on the trees. It was the shadows that first grabbed my attention in the picture at the top of this page. Looking into our own garden, essentially, out from the front porch across to the lovely parklike grounds behind the church.

Then, looking back toward our home, I wanted to capture the white flowers on the tree and then ended up with our house and our neighbor’s too, looking beautifully situated in the background – as they are – under the trees, under the blossoms, under the blue blue sky.

I think springtime is about paying attention – even more so than other times of the year. You have to look for the first crocus, keep an eye out for the clumps of daffodils, the snowdrops, the foxgloves, the hyacinth, the iris, the lenten roses.

Then the big splashes of color will come but they are still mostly one at a time. Right now it’s the early trees in blossom, just a few, later the dogwood; then it will be azalea bushes and eventually my favorite, the lovely hydrangea.

During this Lenten season the hints of spring take on more meaning when I think of them as signs of life, hints and reminders that the long slow time of self-examination is drawing to a close and then we will see the spectacular victory of Easter morning!

Because color and light in the natural world point to spiritual color and light too. There is a sense in which each new flower that opens tells the story of what is eternally true – only the full weight of such beauty would be too much to bear and so, “Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely” (1 Corinthians 13:12).

The weight of glory! Now that is something to consider as we approach Palm Sunday, then Holy Week and the celebration of Easter.

I am grateful for the glory I know. Only glimpses, but overwhelming and humbling all the same. “Oh what a foretaste,” Fanny Crosby wrote, “of glory divine.”

This is my story, this is my song,
praising my Savior all the day long!
This is my story, this is my song
praising my Savior all the day long!

Fanny Crosby, Blessed Assurance