As I return to my reflection spot one final time, I am able to notice a bigger difference in what I see and hear around me than any other time I have visited. The trees (which I can now identify by name) are either budding or completely covered in soft, baby green leaves. The birds around me are chirping away, except for the mourning dove who sings her sad song- coo-OO-ooh, ooh ooh. Perhaps I’ll move onto identifying the birds around me next. I have found that since I have become familiar with the personalities of many of the trees on campus—from the majestic beauty of the Dawn Redwood, to the stately and upright Loblolly Pine, to the delicate and cheerful Dogwood—I have become more observant and perceptive of what is around me. Identifying what is familiar has allowed me to recognize what I have yet to learn.
In the past few weeks, I have decided that spring is my new favorite season, at least in Richmond. In Morgantown where I’m from, spring only differs from winter in its shade of grey. Sloppy, melting snow makes the ground soggy and cold for much of the spring months. The trees and birds don’t usually awaken until mid-May with only a few weeks to go before the summer solstice heralds in the first day of the new season. But in Richmond, my eyes have been opened to the wonders of the spring season, which I am joyfully witnessing from my perch by the fountain in my reflection spot. To wrap this blog up, I will leave you with an appropriate quote from Annie Dillard in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek: “These are our few live seasons. Let us live them as purely as we can, in the present.”