I Will Bear.Posted: January 25, 2016
As the morning sky grows pink and pale cerulean, rose red at the line of horizon, I can see from my window the snow from three days ago. It has melted a bit. It has been trampled on. It is pocked with footprints. Temps will climb to 50 today. This evening it will be gone. Most of it.
But not on my deck. The packed-hard ice and snow will stay with me all week, I suspect. The deck faces north and in the winter gets no sun. The snow piled up to four and a half inches at one point, and then it snowed all night after I measured. Winter is harsh.
It makes me think of warm days and sitting outside. Eight months out of the year, I can enjoy my deck. I often take work or writing out there. I eat three meals a day out there. I sit and think and watch birds, butterflies, and dragonflies. I look over my yard and try to figure out something else to plant or how many more stones I can add or what specialty item I can build. Last year it was a fairy garden. What will it be this year?
It will be something. I am filled with a desire to get out there and do something. Anything. Dig, plant, create. I love growth.
This is true on a personal level, too. If there is not an attitude of constant assessment and awareness and attempts to grow, to reach higher, to be more, then what is there?
In everyone’s heart and soul, there is always something to chisel out, to mold, to make better. If I am a living part of the vine, my leaves will be coming again in season, and I will bear fruit. Until then, I will bear.