spring 2009

The peepers are here! Or at least one of them is. The spring peeper is a small chorus frog that lives near the water and emerges when the weather warms. Along with lengthening days and the newly-scheduled start of daylight saving time, it is one of the first harbingers of spring. Peepers populate my neighbor's three-tiered pond, sharing it with stocked fish and an occasional blue heron (or so my neighbor assures me).

This first one's song is clear and steady and strong, even if it is a solo. He is puffing away for the love of his life, beating out the competitors who are bound to follow. He is the lead in a chorus that is just now hatching. Such is the life of those who dare to be precocious. Ahead but lonely. Hopefully there is one silent female peeper equally present, precocious and aware, bashfully and eagerly listening to this suitor.

That is the way of March: a snow storm on Monday and a peeper by Shabbes.

Another sign was the small snatch of purple flowers (irises?), poking their heads out of the ground on the edge of wooded areas on the street near my home. (I have tried to upload a photo of them to accompany this blog, but given that this would be my inaugural effort at joining picture to words here, I am not sure if it will work. We shall see.)

Perhaps the spring will bring comfort and hope to those struggling through this downturn. Surely our energy bills will lighten, we can be outside more, and we can share in each other's company and return to the simple joys of being with each other. Perhaps we can even recall and recapture the art of conversation. We once knew how to do that.

Today, it seems to be a declining art. Despite our increasing modes of communication, we are woefully out of practice when it comes to conversation. There are website, books and articles that offer to help us regain what we once did as readily as eating.

Cafes and coffee shops hold out the promise of conversation. And in many cases they deliver. More and more we hear the word "salon", not referring to a beauty shop, but a gathering of diverse folk who come together for no other purpose than good talk. Perhaps our kitchen tables, front porches (where they still exist), patios, and dens can again be places of neighborly communion and satisfying conversation.

If there is any silver lining in this financial crisis, and despite the real needs that many of us will suffer through loss of jobs, income and investments I believe there are some, it may just be that it encourages us to turn to each other, to the joys of being together and listening to each other and sharing the stories and the moments that make up the tapestry that becomes our lives.

So this spring, perhaps more than others, invite a friend in, or out, for a cup of coffee or tea and sit and talk and tell stories that inspire. It will gird us for the hard work of recovery, and the re-making of our country that lies ahead.

May you have a Happy Purim!!