I live in a community where the main entrance drive is lined with Bradford Pear trees. These are among the early blooming trees. They are flowering!! This means that the wildflowers are nearly here - only days away. My heart lightens. I feel a smile coming on. Usually these tree blooms only last for a short time. A stormy day with rain and wind will bring the end. But for a few precious days the ride to my home is filled with snowy white blossoms. A glorious sight!
Spring flowers bring back warm memories of my parents. They loved nature with all her colors, textures and wonders. They tried their darndest to teach their children to notice all the glories of nature. Riding in cars they would point out animals, flowers, mountains etc. I'm not sure how I reacted at the time, but if I was anything like my kids I pretended boredom tinged with a heavy dose of cynicism.
I repeated this whole process with my children. Much pointing out of any and everything I found unique, beautiful or interesting. From my kids, much boredom and cynicism. Yawn, yawn. Is any of this familiar to all of you?
As they age and have their own offspring, I'm getting a secret thrill as I catch them engaged in the same rituals. Parents point out. Younger generation yawn. But now I recognize that this is one of those dances performed by each generation. We all have our roles. Observers, noters, ignorers.
I hope that after I'm gone the following generations will remember me fondly as I pointed out every horse between here and Houston, every bird in my yard, all the beautiful bluebonnets lining the roads. May it bring them a smile and warm memories.
(Help! Why can't I move my pictures? Why do the last 3 paragraphs not have a space between them? Why, oh why?)
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