Spring has sprung in the forest we call home.

The arrival of vernal growth underfoot stretches skyward with a promise of blooms when and if the rains come. Some are so delicate, so small many a human eye would miss. Yet amidst the miniature forest of varying grasses and flowers, a rather inconspicuous floweret catches my eye. It’s unassuming presence sings in the company of the other yearning-to-blossom plants.

The little plants desiring to shine forth blooms and plumes paint an array of seasonal life across the hills. The hint is strong yet here in the semi-arid mountains, life’s annual fate and course is left to the sky and to blessed clouds that may or may not arrive come summer. The pennycress’ spiraled basal rosette seedpods look as if the plant is actively pandiculating towards the sky after a restful slumber! Like a flower stretching upward from the earth in spring, I too await the sweetness of rain though I remind myself to be here and now, in this wonder.

We have entered our driest season of the year yet, the arid season abounding both with hardy and hinting blooms is as equally momentous as any and is a season to witness. It is a season of promise.

With every venture I walk, as per usual, in hopes of discovering something new. Keeping in my heart an eternal flame of humility for the yet to be seen mysteries of the beloved earth beneath my feet, I forever regard Nature our great holder of knowledge and secrets. May the mysteries of her wildscapes remain, humbling our human minds and hearts.