We have this wish when we enter into a period of hardship that our life should right itself without any kind of loss or sacrifice — that good times should resume with no scars to show for it. Or if we must have scars, they can, at the very least, have the decency to be resolved with botox. But nature is not like this. So much has to die and decay and desiccate before the floods of spring runoff coax the dormant seedlings to renew.

Crocuses have one important job to do each spring--to break through newly thawed ground with stalwart aliveness. Today, I saw a bud on the side of the road that was purple and dappled like leopard skin. I crouched next to her wondering if she might share of herself.