Dear Editor:
The crocuses are blooming in our front lawn.
They are not immediately obvious, to see them you have to stop and look to see them in the grass. Delicate, fragile, spectacularly purple, their beauty calls me to notice them and my spirit is lifted.
There are no two ways about it, this is a difficult time that we and the world are living through. The news is grim, the fear palpable, the stress through the roof, and the frustrations reaching a boiling point. I don’t think I am exaggerating.
What do we do with all this stress, anxiety, grim news? We can choose to become completely absorbed in the data, in the predictions, in imagining the future. Is there another way?
Hope is fragile, looks weak, it usually begins small, almost not noticed. Hope is built on dozens of little things that challenge the dominating narratives of despair and doom. Hope slides quietly into corners, hiding in place against the wall.
Around us are things as delicate and beautiful as the crocuses in our yard. If we let them, they will lift our spirits. Will we let ourselves be called out of the despair of doom and into the beauty of fragile hope? Whatever is good, whatever is noble, whatever is beautiful, whatever is worthy of praise, let’s make sure we spend time thinking about those things.
The crocuses are blooming in our front lawn.
Peter Bush,
Fergus