WE CAN ALL USE A BIT OF SUNSHINE

A cup dropped off the counter last week. Anxiety expressing itself?

Glorious weather, blue skies, light breeze, not too hot, and flowers bloom. Yellow tree pollen blankets the road, the walkways, and our car windows. The bees, hundreds of them, buzz at the tops of the trees. They pack themselves with pollen, knock off the tiny blossoms on the Japanese Maple, roar through the leaves of the old walnut tree up the street, and fill the sycamores and oaks with their buzz. 

Alive. Spring.

Remember when the pandemic first hit us? People stood by windows or stepped outside to applaud their first responders. Remember the opera singers on their balconies wrapping their neighborhoods in song. Remember how everyone waved at you when you walked in your neighborhood. Every Sunday we could look up at Mt. Diablo to see the beacon of light lit by volunteers to give people hope. Small signs of the positive side of this experience. During the pandemic, we had an opportunity to examine our lives, our living spaces, our friendships, and the earth we live on. We watched the skies and roads clear. But with all the news from the year, the misinformation thrown at us, and the continuing COVID surges, it is easy to see the dark side. Life is bittersweet, heart-breaking, and more.

A friend reminded us that vaccines have good side effects. The shots have brought relief, brought a desire to be out in the world, and brought us closer to reconnecting with people at last. Spring has brought a buzz that we can all rejoice in.

Sunshine and blue skies give us hope and the promise of better days to come, maybe even without masks. Spring gives us the first glimpse of nesting birds. We watch juncos and finches flit in and out of our birdhouses. Robins hop across the grassy areas on our walk. The first deer stops by the budding rose bushes to take a bite or two or more. She and I stare each other down.

The butterflies are out. We have Swallowtail that visit our yard every year. They float through the yard never stopping to rest. Yesterday I saw what I think was an Echo Azure butterfly, its wings tinged with blue (it could have been a more common Small White, but I like the name Echo Azure -- so much for scientific accuracy). Today a Painted Lady rested on a brown leaf, opening and closing its wings.

Spring. Alive. Hope.

To find hope, we can all listen to what our next generation says. Fellow blogger Chandra Lynn has posted links to her students' blogs this month. Please take the time to scroll through them all, you will feel better from having read what they have to contribute. You can see them all on her blog:

https://iamchandralynn.com   

Because I have family who are on the Autism spectrum, I am highlighting the student blog by Patricia who writes about autism:

https://pbmiranda.wordpress.com/blog/ 

Learning from mistakes, again.

This sketch of Lavendar was complete, nicely done with sharply delineated shapes. I painted the border. Fine. Then I decided to add a background color with too much water on my brush, a problem that I have with watercolor. The darker colors started to leak out around the edges. Oh boy! Oh no! I thought I had messed it up. I would have to cut the sketchbook page up into smaller pieces. But I walked away. When I came back and the watercolor was dry, I realized I liked it better. The edges were softer, making a not-so-great sketch a little more interesting.

And I think my Serenity cup is just the right candidate to try Kintsugi, the Japanese way to repair pottery with lines of gold.

Spring. Alive. Hope.