December 6, 2010
I was standing outside in my freezing yard Sunday morning, when I decided to shake the snow off my lavender bushes. They looked heavy, burdened. So I was standing in the cold stark bright air shaking snowy boughs when I was hit with huge wafts of the very freshest sort of smell. It was so strong and cold, the lavender through the snow. You might think lavender in bloom is the best sort of smell, crawling with bees, damp ferny shadows, summer updraft. But I think this might be even sweeter. Who would expect that kind of luxury on such a shivery day? Its must have been the juxtaposition and the surprise of it. It smelled like a fairy godmother might be near, like wishes can occasionally come true, like life will always hold surprises and you can count on that.
Life has a fairytale quality these days. Maybe its because I'm thinking a lot about God. Maybe its because I'm thinking a lot about ego. Maybe its because I'm in the constant company of gangly tween creatures who are mercurial, primal, and oh so tenderly dear as they lay around shedding their teeth like sharks and changing shape so fast they are falling over their own toes and elbows, falling over their own psyches and moods.
Anyway, fairytales are fun. Snow is fun. Growing up is hard. And we can all expect the unexpected. Sometimes it will even be cheerful.