Spring sunday

Palm Sunday...it was a huge day for my family growing up... The beginning of Holy Week. A week of masses, parties, a new dress, hat and white patent leather shoes. Now we are far from family and we decided to skip services and hike under the Ponderosa pines and piñon. The sweet smell of sap running, like warm caramel. Dust covered toes in Tevas. Our own parade of celebration. The beauty of rebirth. Snow gone, earth worms swarming in the garden. Spring blossoms scattered like confetti in the air. I sit comfortable under the old budding willow watching Oliver scamp around finding forgotten yard toys that survived the winter. This continuance. This reassurance that spring will always come. I may be different but the tulips are bound to bloom and the trees will leaf. When death is inevitable it is nice to know the mountain I climb today will be here long after me. I am comforted by this thought. The inevitability of rebirth. This is why I celebrate this week and why I will pack baskets full of goodies. To share the smiles of this time of year. Spring has sprung!