The previous weeks melancholy has currently departed, much like the low tide that cleans debris from the beach, while also exposing hidden treasures. I've found a few of those treasures.
What continues to surprise me, in spite of being one who tunes in to and is aware of natural rhythms, is how every time I'm deeply entrenched in melancholy I think for certain "it" will last forever. Remind me not to "think" about such deeply emotional experiences!
So once again, "it" didn't last forever and I'm writing this today with a smile on my face, hope in my heart, and joy in the miracle of life.
Speaking of the miracle of life . . . there are fava bean sprouts beginning to peak their green heads from beneath the soil. Yea!! What is showing in the last couple of days are the beans I pre-sprouted to see if they wanted to live. Yet . . . much to my dismay (and only because I really wanted this miracle) . . . they are not all safe and sound because it just so happens that these tender, vulnerable, new shoots are quite appealing to the creepy crawlies and birds. Sigh... Well, perhaps when the mass exodus of buried seed to bursting out leaves occurs in the next week there will be more than the bugs and birds can eat. I think I'll still help out a little with bird netting and diatomaceous earth.
Here again I find a wonderful metaphor: I must be careful when exposing myself to the new world as I take root and grow, and my venturing out will benefit from having a guardian or two to shield me from potential dangers. But not too much protecting, for the tender shoot that is not allowed to experience the wind and sun will grow weak and spindly, falling over at the slightest breeze, and burning at the touch of the sun.
Ahhh . . . so many treasures.