 Bubbles: Spring’s breath of life. Before the tender buds, before the heralded arrival of the robins, even before the last snowdrift thaws, spring is most visible on the banks of a mountain pond. The fringe of the pond is the first to recognize the change of seasons. Magically, the ice begins to percolate with life. This brisk early spring morning, I have a front row seat to Winter’s loosing grip.  How effortless it seems, this subtle shift of seasons. But, is it truly effortless? Or, is it simply grace that allows the pond’s frozen stillness to slowly, elegantly, perk with renewed aliveness.  I imagine the fish in the depths of the pond, gathered in schools, sensing this change of seasons, as they collectively fill their gills, blowing a waft of air to the still frozen surface. Their gentle nudge, saying, “it’s time to wake.”  I often think of Mary Oliver when I’m in nature, especially on a morning like this. What wisdom would she find in this moment? Oh, to sit by this awakening pond with Mary. How engaged and enthusiastic she would be. Yet, I am sure, if she were by my side, she would turn to me to simply say, “Pay attention and be in awe.” Pay attention and be in awe.  Live in color,
Abby
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