Photograph by Willa © 2011. Used with permission.

Today, I startled a little bird who has taken refuge in the hanging flower pot outside my window. That pot swings empty all winter long, until one happy day when a visitor makes it home.

Sometimes, Spring in Indiana will appear instantaneously and surprise us.
Our gray, listless skies suddenly fill blue and sunshine reaches down to lift our tired spirits out of the brown grass.
There was no such sudden transition this year…
This year, we all watch for signs.
We are not going from gray and brown to blue and green.
We are going from frozen white to flood. Out of our mucky mud pops life.

Photograph by Willa © 2011. Used with permission.

Out here, on the county roads, over acres of farm land,  it’s not metropolis.
Valuable antiquity is not found in streets lined with stunning architecture or in fabulous stone buildings that surround timeless fountains- but rather, in fields that yield fruit year in and year out… in unending stories of flood and drought; in people whose breath is tied to the pulsing, changing seasons.

Photograph by Willa © 2011. Used with permission.

This year, the fields are not yet freshly tilled and sown with seed.  Last season’s rows are trapped in pools of water that stand in the way of the farmer who waits. Gardens of mud remain untended, while seeds and flowers sit on porches ready to go in the ground.

The leaves of last Fall are matted and muddy. Clusters of knotted equipment and deserted implements lie about naked for all to see- waiting to be dressed and hidden for summer.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/fxcandy/6751818767/

Photograph by Willa © 2011. Used with permission.

Frustrated by endless downpour, we are forced to take a seat and wait.
We are poised to till and dig…
Ready to plant and harvest…
Everything seems to be stubbornly delayed- yet we can hear the magnificent rhythm pulse on…
We see little birds take refuge in high places to hide their tiny eggs and wait.
We watch as green pops through the murky pools…
We hear the peepers sing their faithful songs… and we marvel-
somehow stunned.

Winter has left us once again!
The sun rises and sets, and with each new day, life springs forth from the earth.
The farmer and the gardener wait for the soil to break dry and God watches over all.
My empty flower pot is full of life.
Oh, how I love Spring!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/fxcandy/6424926811/

Photograph by Willa © 2011. Used with permission.

Aren’t these photographs amazing? I love the texture. They make me want to tell stories about a far away place. They were taken by my new Indiana artist friend who collaborates with another artist to create the textures. You must go and meet her yourself. See Willa’s Photostream at:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/fxcandy/

 Please forgive the re-posting… I’m testing my Facebook interface…