Time marches on, the days get a little warmer – even though the weekend delivered us frosty winds and sporadic rain – and we keep doing what we do. We celebrate birthdays – two this weekend, one with friends and Indian food so spicy, eyes watered and sweat beaded on flushes cheeks, the other with family and big plates of fresh food as Bondi beach whipped itself into a frenzy outside. We drink too much, eat too much, sing ‘happy birthday’ to the others celebrating their milestones at the next table. We feel grateful we can all be together on such occasions, happy and healthy. And then we vow to go on detox for a week.
Today, Spring is here and nothing seems to scream ‘change and newness and time, time, time!’ like new blooms and babies. Spring is here in the bees buzzing about the lavender, she’s here in the shy pink flowers quietly tipping their faces to the sun, the brightness of light and the warmth of the afternoons. It wasn’t long ago I was celebrating like mad, as Weiden burst into bloom. Now it’s Sydney’s turn. We keep marching on.
I went for a walk around my mother’s garden this morning. Did you know she has written a book on beautiful gardens? That she has created a haven here, for native wildlife to live and raise their little ones in peace? She is amazing. And so is her garden where, right now, everything is becoming new again. Everything is marching on.