A friend called this morning to check in on me, to see how I was coping with all the bedbug craziness. I indulged in a brief session of what my late friend Randy called "speed bitching" (I'd just been informed that the spraying would be delayed a day and it threw me) and then agreed to his wise suggestion to meet for a coffee break in the afternoon. We had a grand visit, talking about bad fiction, retreat destinations, prairie skies and ocean vistas. It took me out of myself.
On the way home after this delightful break, I walked home past the gardens of nearby Bidwell park. In just a couple of blocks, all of spring's glory sang out to me... Purple-veined crocus blossoms about to break open, snowdrops and daffodils in full bloom, and the eager tips of tulips breaking out of the earth, looking every bit like the beaks of baby birds, hungry for spring sunshine and rain.
"Better days ahead, darling" is something I frequently hear inside my head, in the calm and wise voice of my mother. This was the refrain I heard today from Mother Earth.
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