Delight

Just like that, light begins to return in random sparks. The weight of my long winter is eased by the flashes of golden grace that suddenly seem everywhere. I know they've always been there, and more I haven't yet felt, but in the last few days I've found myself delighted at every turn.

The awareness of the feeling first came on a walk with Toby (no surprise there, right?). It was a rare morning walk, below freezing beneath a lively blue sky. I was enjoying the particular freshness only to be found in morning light and air, following the trail, when I looked up to see what I thought was fog blanketing the clearing ahead. When I broke through, what I found instead was a breathtaking display of diamonds liberally painted over every surface for as far as my eye could see, sparkling like life under the bright morning sun.

Later it was a video of babies laughing, found as I scrolled Facebook. I'm rarely there, and even more rarely willing to take the time to watch the many videos linked, but that time I did. I can still hear the music of those four angelic voices crowing in delight.

And then like fireflies at dusk in the Midwest, a couple of sparks became a skyful:

A new massage therapist with warm hands and a warmer heart.

A phone call from my older brother, which always makes me happy, but this time I could hear my own joy at the sound of his voice, and was surprised by it. Frank's grief over the loss of his stepson is still fresh, and I think our shared losses this year have opened something new for us.

Shiny, velvety, new-green foxglove leaves whorled against the ground, the first step toward the brilliant brave spikes that will wave in summer breezes.

On the edge of a meadow, plum blossoms festooning a baby tree, clearly not aware they're meant to wait for warmer air.

Lunch with a friend that felt as soulful and satisfying as the soup we shared.

It's not the events. I know that. And each is something I am always aware of feeling grateful for in some way. This new sense of lightened, light-filled delight is a very different thing. A return of an old friend, but more somehow. Stronger and more precious because of the shadows from which it's emerging.

Winter still holds here, even with the many small signs of spring. We could still get weather, often do into early March. The cold still grips like there's no tomorrow. I'm prepared for even more frost, and won't be relying on the warmth and light this week has given as proof winter has been defeated. But for now at least, my spring has arrived.