Greetings friends,
This morning, the sun is shining. I grab my favorite walking stick and head outdoors. After the long winter, I relish the Ohio spring. I would happily bypass those environmental challenges – sleet, snow, hail, and ice; but alas, we would not have the wonders of spring without the brutality of winter. Spring woos me slowly for months as I watch winter disappear into a canopy of new life.
Winter seems to linger longer than other seasons. I know that isn’t true; winter lasts the same number of months as other Ohio seasons. It just seems longer, especially in the era of COVID and the escalating war between Russia and Ukraine. Winter has taken on new meaning for me. I no longer think of winter as just a season, the time of year when cold winds blow and the world outside is blanketed in white. Winter can also be a time of scarcity and loneliness as barren as the ground beneath one’s feet. Winter is both season and metaphor, a time when life, as lived, can be as harsh as the season.
Yet, winter is necessary, the forebearer of spring. For in winter, we have the opportunity to retreat, reflect, and pause as we consider how to move forward in the spring of life. In a time of unparalleled division between countries and people, winter is both warning and hope. Winter is life unseen, a life in waiting, the not-yet, and the what could be. Life waits for us beneath the winter’s hard surface. Our survival depends upon the Spring, the one that our best self tells us is possible. We need spring and spring needs us.
Spring is the time of year when life is reborn. I find peace in the idea that new life can emerge from chaos, even in the most extreme circumstances. Yet, new beginnings are never easy. Winter is the time of preparation when life begins the ascent through the frozen earth until finally emerging fresh and new to greet the waiting sun. New beginnings are not magic. Life is hard work. My woodland retreat is peaceful, but not passive. The necessary struggles of spring lie hidden beneath the soil. I am reminded that my own life is not any different. My actions, big or small, speak to the life I want to live and the world I want to live in.
John and I have made it our mission to remain healthy for as long as possible and to share our journey with our readers. We work hard at optimal nutrition and exercise. I am fortunate to live close to a favorite hiking spot. On busy days, when a longer hike is impossible, I slip away to Rising Park. Hiking to the top of Mount Pleasant and back takes roughly 30 minutes. The hike provides plenty of aerobic benefits and the view from the top is exhilarating. I feel on top of the world with my birds-eye view of Lancaster.
John is with me on most hikes. He offers the science behind many of the emerging plants, while I snap a few photos. This time of year, it is common to see May apples, violets, asters, a few trillium plants, and, of course, mushrooms.
As I age, I recognize how important it is to simply keep moving. Not only does the movement benefit the body physically, but activity is wonderful nourishment for the soul Hike often. Your body and spirit will thank you.
