Spring is in the air

As spring approaches, the bear who has been hibernating must slowly return to himself. His pulse quickens, his metabolism awakens in him a hunger for food he has not had in many months. The longer, brighter hours must necessarily signal to his closed lids that heat and warmth and light have returned to the bare landscape that had been vanquished by winter.

I feel the same. Slow impulses gaining ground, silently amassing behind curled knuckles, tender sleepy palms, beginning to feel the blood pump. I am awakening. The sun is drawing me out and once out I am loathe to return indoors. I look for excuses, bundle the kids and go for long walks. I am thrilling at the longer days, at the quickening life within me that had, for all intents and purposes, deserted me entirely. Dearth. Winter. Silence. Barren.

And now, what next I want to scream, jumping raising my inactive arms. Life begins again. Shoots break through frozen ground, push aside clods of dirt. The bunny makes almost daily appearances. Grey has seen his first blue sky in a long while and has pointed to it, announcing “Dis! Dis!” because for him it is a revelation.

Henry is back in the realm of his “future” as he calls it. We are back outside, walking the streets, going to the parks. We have been loosed.

All of this is to say, life returns to frozen Chicago. And I am determined now. To make a life of it, no matter how long I’m here. To dig in and set down roots. What makes a home is as much the rootedness as the health of the soil.

Soon I will get an Illinois license and then it will be official. But as for now, I’m making plans to bloom here. My shoots are breaking through the frozen soil too, and I’m going to have a go of it.