In the long winter my body has forgotten. It has forgotten how to bend and stoop and open to the earth. It remembers only how to fold in upon itself, to become the sleeping seed, to curl up against the cold. But as the green shoots stir and reach up out of their slumber, the dust within me begins to awaken.
All day I pull weeds from the beds in my back yard where beauty is beginning to open her eyes. My ancient bones protest against this reunion, but—like a sister—I press on, letting her awaken gently, making room for the stretch and yawn. I take the flat-edged shovel and make the boundaries sharper, stir the soil on the brim of the beds, let my hands dig deep to break up clods of unyielding earth. I sift it all through my sieve-fingers.
I am not alone. There are many visitors. A hairy woodpecker raps on the trunk of the towering walnut tree. The robin’s song gives cheerful company. Earthworms wriggle and the wind lifts the meadow grasses. A tiny titmouse perches above me and admonishes me for how large and clumsy I am. I talk to him, try making the “pish”-ing sound to signal my good nature. He cocks his head to one side, curious. The sun falls soft over us and the smell of earth is a heady perfume and I am happy.
My body begins to remember.
There is still much work to do and I am reacquainted with ibuprofen but this is the song of spring. We have been preoccupied with a big decision and sleep gives way to worry but fresh air does much to treat this malady. At night I dream about church bells and robinsong and I awaken with the scent of earth in my nostrils and that feeling of excitement that something good will come soon.
The waking earth holds in her womb a promise. The slow awakening helps me remember.
Every Monday I share one of my Playdates with God. I would love to hear about yours. It can be anything: outside, quiet time. Maybe it’s solitary. Maybe it’s loud and crowded. Just find God and know joy. I try to visit a few of your stories every week, so if you are a new visitor, be sure to let me know in the comments so I can welcome you. Grab my button at the bottom of the page and join us. **UPDATE: Friends, I had to close the linky due to a large number of inappropriate linkups. Please accept my sincere apologies if any of you, dear readers, inadvertently visited one of these inappropriate links. I’m going to have to think about what to do for our future playdates posts. In the meantime, please leave your link in the comments so our community may continue to visit. Again, I’m so, so sorry!