A tiny, important thing is happening in my yard. The little white lilac is blooming.
Here’s the history of my beloved, best ever lilac tree. When I read that old post from 2006, I marvel at how long ago that was in personal years. Since then, I had a daughter, the country house is larger, now almost roomy, thanks to an addition. And the white lilac shoot has been moved to its second country house location (to make room for the addition).
A harsh winter, a rainy spring, and now there’s beautiful popcorn on the small tree. I breathe in its heady fullness. I look back and think of how I wanted to kick the ass of the people who cut it down. I think back to how I considered the word “evil” in the cutting down of that good grandmother lilac tree. (Now, rather than “evil,” I would call it “unskilled,” and the word would not be a euphemism.)
I savor these blooms. May the years provide many small but important moments to celebrate flexibility, evolution, and the tender cycle of life.