Inspiration
Seems I'm just getting in under the wire for my March Musings. When I was teaching, March always seemed to be the longest month, but this year, March winds just whisked the days away like so much (snow-covered) dust. It's still bitterly cold (today, especially so) but paths in our snow garden are widening; brown patches of earth are everywhere.
Nature was a harsh task master this winter ~ all that snow to shovel or plow ~ all that ice to chip or salt ~ I wonder, too, how many ancient furnaces coughed and creaked themselves to a costly death. But Nature is also a kind teacher. Hold on, she whispers. Keep you eyes open. Have you less courage than the tender blossom who bravely pokes through the cold brown earth?
On one my recent school visits, a student asked me where I found my inspiration. It was hard to answer because I'm inspired by so many things ~ my family, my friends, by the open faces and open hearts of the students I visit, by the readers who send me their heartfelt thoughts in letters and emails. E.B. White said, All I hope to say in books, all I ever hope to say, is that I love the world. Like Elwyn, I love the world; my books are little more than an expression of this love. I'm inspired by unexpected kindnesses, moments of grace, and nature's eternal promise that however blustery the winds blow, however long the snows linger, one day, the tenderest blossom will peek out and transform the world.
Nature was a harsh task master this winter ~ all that snow to shovel or plow ~ all that ice to chip or salt ~ I wonder, too, how many ancient furnaces coughed and creaked themselves to a costly death. But Nature is also a kind teacher. Hold on, she whispers. Keep you eyes open. Have you less courage than the tender blossom who bravely pokes through the cold brown earth?
On one my recent school visits, a student asked me where I found my inspiration. It was hard to answer because I'm inspired by so many things ~ my family, my friends, by the open faces and open hearts of the students I visit, by the readers who send me their heartfelt thoughts in letters and emails. E.B. White said, All I hope to say in books, all I ever hope to say, is that I love the world. Like Elwyn, I love the world; my books are little more than an expression of this love. I'm inspired by unexpected kindnesses, moments of grace, and nature's eternal promise that however blustery the winds blow, however long the snows linger, one day, the tenderest blossom will peek out and transform the world.
 |
| ...the widening path |
Comments
Post a Comment