Growth
Not growth as in 'goiter', but growth as in new things. Nothing against goiters or those who have goiters. That's just not what I'm talking about right now.

I'm amazed by growth. That things grow, begin again, continue on. I've seen this in my yard lately, as winter fades away and spring arrives. I get to see the whole cycle this year, as opposed to last year when I came into possession of my yard after a hot and dry summer. It's so cool to me, this spring-y grow-y season. And I just don't get how it's possible.

Even just a few weeks ago my yard was a yellowy-brownish, leaf-less wasteland of things that once were trees and bushes and grass. By all outward appearances, things looked dead. Everything resembled some form of twig- lifeless, pointless, hopeless.

Then things started to grow and change, beginning with the weeds. One day, no weeds. The next day, towering weeds of infinite numbers scattered unevenly throughout the yard and flower beds. I'm amazed by weeds, and not in a good way. How do they grow so fast without doing anything to make them grow? Why can't the things that are supposed to grow, grow that well? Weeds are the first sign of spring. It's a good sign, albeit troublesome and ugly. But a sign that better things are on the way, and life is out there in the yard. Somewhere.

At first, the other things in the yard slowly start to catch up to the weeds. The grass is a little less brown. The trees begin to have tiny buds and specks of leaves. It's the first sign of hope that the yard isn't dead. It's just been sleeping for awhile.

And now, just over the past week or so, my yard has exploded into an eden of new growth. It's insane. The fig tree has tons of huge green figs and leaves, soon to be ripe enough for me to pick and preserve. The leaves are almost too thick for me to see the trunk or get around under the tree, all in just a week.

I've discovered that two of my remaining 'mystery' bushes are, in fact, rose bushes. I didn't know what they were, having never seen them do anything. But now they've sprouted pink roses, with many more to come. It's the coolest thing I've ever seen. I never knew I'd be so in love with roses and bushes and trees.

The nearly dead tree that came back to life last year after I paid some attention to it is already huge and sprouting white flowers. The mostly dead twig-of-a-tree that I transplanted from the front to the backyard a few weeks ago is now sprouting and blooming and striving to be more than just a twig. It seems happy in its new spot. It's growing.

The holly bushes I planted in the front are quite jolly.

The grass is greener. The weeds are fewer. The season has changed. There is growth.

It's been really peaceful and exciting to watch it all happen, especially knowing I have very little to do with any of it. A little mowing, a little watering, a little weeding, a little pruning. The rest is up to God and the yard. I just get to sit back and watch.

It makes me think- I hope to be more like my yard. Not green and leafy and sometimes weedy. But growing in ways that don't seem possible, responding to change beyond my control.

Growth- especially when things seem lifeless, pointless, and hopeless.

C.T.