February 24, 2006
Rev. Darcey Laine
I was so delighted to see the first pink blossoms as we passed the orchards of the Central Valley last weekend. “Look!” I proclaimed. “Those little pink flowers mean that spring is here!” My companions assured me that I had only to look at the calendar to see that it was still winter. This, I thought, is the essence of our trouble: we go inside to look at a piece of paper when we want to know what season it is, instead of looking at the trees.
Sure the Northeast is still digging out from a record blizzard. We were shocked to see snow as close as Mt. Diablo. But seasons are a very local phenomenon. Here in this little ecosystem, winter is a time of longer nights and driving rain — but not snow. And in a bio-region without snow and frost, spring can come a little earlier. These blooming trees know something we don’t know. They take a tremendous risk by marshalling their resources into those fragile pink flowers, by growing buds. If they are wrong about the arrival of spring, they risk a late frost, they risk the loss of a whole year of growth and reproductive capacity.
As I write this, a dove has been picking up little sticks and leaves in front of my office door. Why sticks? They don’t eat sticks do they? Oh, a nest! The dove knows too — it’s time for the growth of new life. It’s time to make nests and lay eggs.
This noticing of the cycles in our particular bio-region, of the lives of our neighboring trees and birds, is a crucial religious practice. This noticing will lead us into a healthy, neighborly and sustainable relationship with our local ecosystems. It will also open to us the ancient wisdom of trees and birds. It will remind us of our own deep cyclical knowing that is often obscured by the busy clatter of our information age.
Next time you are looking for a way to live your UU principles, just step outside and notice winter turning into spring.