The Promise of Spring . . .

Ice burdens a tree in Bridgewater.  (Photo by Dick Bergeron)

The seasons come and go, and in this latitude, we know with certainty that the early greening of May is soon to come, followed not so far behind by the fullness of July and of summer.  

It sounds like a trite statement, yet we accept that assurance, because as adults, we have seen it happen regularly, and without fail.

Young children have not, and that is why they marvel, for example, at the sight of their first snowfall, not thinking of anything but of the joy associated with the falling of snowflakes and of being in the crisp outdoor air. 

If we are lucky enough, no matter what our age, health, or fiscal condition, we will live to see another season, and another, and another:  Even though we don’t give that much thought, we inherently hope so, because nothing is guaranteed – only fools believe that.

Without having thought of it and without having articulated it, we take the change of seasons for granted, because that process is something that we have seen and experienced with our own individual senses.  We know for sure.  There is no doubt.

A butterfly descends on a garden flower to feed, July 2010

Which brings up the obvious question:  What of things unseen?  Can we believe in those?  Do we always need scientific proof, even if science is not yet up to the task of having encapsulated and codified all of the knowledge and phenomena in our own vast world, let alone the entire universe?

There is great wisdom in looking back in time and in discovering how little our predecessors knew then and, if we are truly wise, of how little we really know now, perhaps, in some cases, even less.  A long time ago, a man called Paul said that, “faith is belief in things unseen.”  Not everyone agrees with that.  But I find it a good guide, provided that we don’t let our egos get away from the true meaning of that aphorism.