Violets

The sun shines, I come.  I sit in the gentle air, in the waiting warmth, in the bowl of blue and am welcomed into spring.  Spring, and holiday.  It is still and timeless like memories of summer.  The birdsong is all encompassing, no longer in the background it fills centre stage with murmuring, cooing, and sharp, sweet trilling.  The trees are opening their arms to the sun and you can sense the surge in them as buds are fed ready to burst with green.  They are swelling from the grey bark like remembered dreams, ready but not rushing. 

It is the daffodils that cheer the heart, even when the sun is slow to show.  How wonderful that the first colours of spring are the colours of sun, so bright against the lawn, just-mown for the season.  Daffodils, celandines and primroses, and yellow mahonia blossom, just opening to release its scent. 

But there is more.  Scattered through my garden are wild violets, dark purple hiding from first sight, and white and mauve too, the only flower in the rainbow.  There is something thrilling about noticing the presence of something I haven’t planted, like a gift, like angels visiting unawares.  We take it for granted that weeds blow in, but here is a bounty of beauty I didn’t expect.

Is God like this, scattering violets in our path to cheer our way, even when we don’t notice or return the thanks?  It’s so easy to notice the weeds along our way, and they will always be there.  But scattered between in cushions of colour are violets – God’s gift.