Most men pursue pleasure with such breathless haste that they hurry past it.
I don’t know why I let it happen every spring, but I do. The beautiful sunshine beckons me outdoors where I’ve longed to be all winter. Sowing seeds in warmed soil, relaxing outside with a book and delighting in the longer days that will soon seem endless. My mornings are filled with birdsong, the days with sunshine and everything wonderful about spring. Then I look around.
The shrubs need to be pruned, the weeds pulled, the compost turned and the beds cleared. The perennials need to be divided, the seedlings transplanted and the fence mended. A trellis is leaning, the grapevines falling and the grass is littered with debris from winter winds. *SIGH* So much to do! All at once I’m hurrying. There’s not enough time to stand and enjoy the sweet scent of soil in the air or notice the buds swelling each day on the trees. I have work to do! I’m very busy!
I was in the middle of listing today’s garden chores when the phone rang with an offer so sweet I had no choice but to accept. Our eldest daughter needed to pick up her wedding gown. I sat looking out the window while we chatted, suddenly I wasn’t so worried about getting everything done. After all it’s only March, spring has only just begun. The garden will get planted, the yard cleaned and straightened just as it does every year. Life has a way of interrupting my haste and reminding me “Don’t hurry, don’t worry and don’t forget to stop and smell the flowers.” Today I did just that…after we picked up her dress.