Today is one of those late-winter days that signal that spring is in the air. When I walked to church this morning, the sun was making its best effort to break through the clouds, and the temperature was around 41 degrees F. Although the sidewalks are still a bit slippery here and there, the snow is melting and if these temperatures continue, Oslo will be snow-free by mid-March. And that bodes well for my return to the garden. I can't wait. As I walked home from church down Telthusbakken street, I remembered back to the mid-1980s when I would travel up to my parents' house by train from my Bronx apartment on a few Easter Sundays, savoring the early spring feeling that permeated the month of March and early April. Spring was in the air. It is that good feeling I remember--the warmth of the sun, the brightness of the colors around me, and the happy feeling that was infectious. It enveloped me. People were happy that winter was over, and on Easter Sunday, New Yorkers were dressed in their finery and milling about, at least in Manhattan. I often took the subway into Manhattan to get the Metro-North Hudson Line train at Grand Central Station so that I could enjoy the train ride up along the river. I still love that train ride all these years later.
These were my thoughts today walking home from church--remembering Easter Sundays all those years ago. Remembering dressing up in dresses from Best & Company when my sister and I were children, and pairing them with the black patent leather shoes that were popular then. And we had to have our Easter hats. I still have one of mine that I use as decoration. A past time when dressing up for church and special occasions was the norm. I treasure those days for the memories of family and a way of living that has passed, but I will say that I no longer really dress up that way because I prioritize comfort now. It's a seldom occasion that warrants fine dresses, stockings and high heels. And it's not these things so much that I miss, it's the time with family, the celebration of Easter and the intimations of spring that I treasure most.
That's what I felt on my walk home today--intimations of spring. I look forward to spring each year. The rebirth of life, birds chirping happily, buds on the trees, and a feeling of permeating happiness. This is what is important to me, in the midst of the trials and tribulations of the world at large. I cannot focus on that world any longer. There is no peace to find there, and it does not seem to me that men in power anywhere truly want or value peace. I sometimes wonder if they ever just step outside and listen—to the birdsong, to the pulse of nature around them. Truly, I wonder. How can someone watch and hear birds searching for mates, driven by the instinct to start families, and then turn around only to wage wars that bring mayhem and destruction? A love for nature and a desire for war cannot coexist. Prioritizing one means deprioritizing the other.
