Stop that daffodil!

When I saw the first daffodil stems coming up, I was giddy.  When I saw forsythia blooms, I couldn’t believe it was happening.  Now there’s a tree already in practically full leaf along 501 at Centerville.  Yesterday, I saw red buds in bloom between Roxboro and Virgilina.  After all the anticipation, spring seems so sudden once it comes.

On a steep bank along the fence row, spring’s first clump of daffodils that I fawned over and photographed on the morning of their delirious discovery are now faded and crinkly like old newsprint.  My soul cries “Wait!  Slow down!” But the tenderness of first spring gives way to showy vibrance at breakneck speed.  New things bloom and last week’s standouts crinkle and fade while I barely had time to capture a few in a vase.  I’m afraid to blink in case the summer lillies bloom already while I’m tossing a simple salad.  Everything changes and I must be in the moment. 

“See?  I am doing a new thing!  Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?”  (Isaiah 43:19)