Did you know that there are flowers whose petals sparkle in the sun (as though they had glitter sprinkled all over them, except less tacky)?
Did you know that there are trees that drop flowers with petals smoother than velvet and of an indescribable shade between orange and red?
Did you know there are little red berries whose insides are lined with a fuzzy white substance?
Did you know that there are flowers who only show their faces when the sun shines upon them?
Did you know there are trees whose trunks sprout fern-like growths and turn the most lovely yellow-green hue?
Did you know there are black butterflies with pale yellow outlining their wings?
Did you know there are trees with bristly red cylinders hanging vertically from their branches?
Have you smelled soil freshly watered or grass freshly mown?
Have you let your toes press into the shaded lawn?
Have you let the sun kiss your shoulders?
Have you relished the quenching of thirst?
In the midst of (what is, for me) the craziest part of the semester, these are the questions I have to ask myself. In order to maintain a sense of calm, I desperately need the peacefulness of springtime--the regeneration of the earth, and the rediscovery of once-known wonders. These wonders whisper and remind me that, more than them, I desperately need the Person from whom they derive their being.