I have never appreciated the bud of a tree, the sound of a bird, or the heat of the sun more in my entire life than I have this past week.
It was with a renewed appreciation for everything spring-like that I bounded outside with great joy and absorbed everything springing up from the dusty ground.
This last winter took the wind out of me in a big way, especially the last three snowfalls. And now, I am grabbing every spare moment to stop and smell the roses.
Apparently, I’m not alone in my newly found bliss. Other residents are enjoying our river from the vantage point of canoes and kayaks. Droves of people are running through our streets in freshly purchased sports apparel. Cyclists are once again trying to establish their rightful presence amidst SUVs and pick-up trucks with Cummins engines.
This outward bliss, for me, has turned inward. I find myself absent of any complaints. A recently hired carpet cleaning company accidentally punched a hole in my wall, dumped chemicals on my driveway, and overcharged me. Do I care? No, quite frankly. I don’t.
An aggressive driver tried to run me off Groat Road even though I was already 10 km over the speed limit. Did I track him down, like I usually do? No. I didn’t. I just got out of his way.
I’m waking up two hours earlier than normal and going to bed two hours later. I’m eating less, breathing more and giving more. It’s almost like falling in love.
In fact, I would say the result of this last, horrible wretched winter left me in a constant state of falling in love simply because it was here and now it’s gone like a bad house guest. Whew! I’m glad that one’s gone. Now I can enjoy my house once again but this time with a renewed sense of appreciation.
My plan this spring is to celebrate the sun with tons of flowers simply because they are a product of the gentle season. In fact, my plan is to bring gentleness into everything I do simply to spite winter. How dare it pound away at us relentlessly like it did?
Will I be able to carry this newly found love through my life come next winter? Or will I pound away at it causing it to leave me and my life open once again to the biting cold of the north wind? Stay tuned, for I will surely let you know.
Sharon Ryan teaches ethics for ULCA Extension and lives in St. Albert.
