The day had started out a little rough. A friend shared with me about going to the doctor because of some congestion in her chest, and her doctor sent her to get tested for the virus, and she is now quarantined at home until she gets the results back, and unable to go to work.
Another friend shared frustrations about some decisions made about her father's health and how she felt helpless and didn't know where to turn for help.
In the midst of my garden tour, when I reached the southwest corner of the backyard, I noticed something that I had not seen before.
Despite some black and white tiles Paul had put down on the ground last summer to cover up some of the ground for a sitting area, the crocuses pushed their way forth.
In the past I have always been amazed at the resiliency of the crocus, that is one of the earliest bloomers in the garden, and doesn't seem to mind a light snowfall.
But these crocuses were bound and determine to make their way through whatever barrier was in the way and grow toward the sun. Their will to grow, bloom and live was more powerful than the black and white tile that could have provided a barrier to their growth, but the crocus overcame.
I want to be like the crocus. When I come to the end of a long, cold and dark winter, I want to break through whatever it is in my life that is keeping me down and break through whatever crack there may be and burst forth so I can grow, and bloom and live in the light.
The crocus tells a good story, one we should listen to this spring.