The leaves won’t ever be as bright and fresh as they are right now, and that is cause for celebration and contemplation. This vibrant shade of chartreuse is not meant to last, and soon it will deepen into a darker green. We celebrate for the same reasons we contemplate: it honors the moment. Inhabiting the present is a gift that we have all been given, but too many of us forget how to use it, if we ever learned in the first place. Most children are born with this understanding – only when they grow up or are taught differently do they lose track of it. Life doesn’t make it easy to hold onto such wisdom either, the way it makes the mundane necessary, the way it distracts and spooks with sparkle and terror.
Yet every year at this time I am so touched by the beauty and freshness of the world that the awe reminds me to be as fully present as possible. If that means slowing down and pausing in the day, no matter what else is going on, then that’s what I try to do.
The splendor of late spring never lasts as long as summer, fall or winter. It’s heartbreaking, and remembered in a different way in the sense that the temporal and fleeting are made more dear and precious because they won’t last. That’s why it’s important to be as present as possible. It’s one of the most important lessons of spring.
