Get close. Lean in. Because . . .

"Spring cannot be cancelled."

Becoming a Daffodil © Kathryn LeRoy

Hello friend,

I watched two blond heads, bent over, intense, watching, no giggles, awes, or fussing. They moved in closer, noses almost touching the cold pavement. From the window, I couldn’t see what captivated them, drawing them away from the busyness of children.

I had to know.

“What do you see?”

“Ants!” they squealed.

Yellow Orb © Kathryn LeRoy

As children, we have a natural curiosity. Then we grow up and grow taller, towering over the tiny bits of life scurrying, blooming, expanding, who have no concern if they will be seen or liked.

Our days become engulfed in work, draining energy and patience. Nothing gets in our way while we scale an invisible ladder, but to what?

We forget.

I wish I had grasped these lessons earlier in my adult season. I don’t want to lose the eyes and inquisitiveness of a child. I long to walk unafraid of what the day may bring, look down or up, leaning close to the earth, enthralled by a squiggly earthworm or ants on a mission.

I don’t know if we have ever lived without oppressors, power-seekers, and meanness. Their kind seem to persist.

Waiting © Kathryn LeRoy

However, I have enough evidence of another phenomenon—the helpers, the compassionate, the kindhearted, the generous, those gentle souls who respect and value all humankind. When the world gets “too much,” I look for them.

I want to gather the wisdom and, follow Louise May Alcott, who cries, “I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship.” I, too, steer forward to seek out, lean in, and spark my curiosity—unafraid.

During the 2020 COVID-19 pandemic, British artist David Hockney set out to create drawings of the unfolding spring of the Normandy, France, countryside. Using his iPad to draw and paint, the artist rendered the big and small around his four-acre plot.

Hockney got close. He leaned in. He offered hope, knowing “spring cannot be cancelled.”

February © Kathryn LeRoy

It’s that time of year for watching nature’s amazing revolution.

For being the shortest month of the year, February has a way of feeling, well, different. I share Kevin Killeen’s thoughts: February is a whole ‘nother story.

Marianne Faithfull (RIP) sings As Tears Go By, Something Better, and gives a lovely reading of “She Walks in Beauty” by Lord George Gordon Byron with music from Warren Ellis.

“I would suggest people could draw at this time… Question everything…. I would suggest they really look hard at something and think about what they are really seeing…. We need art, and I do think it can relieve stress. What is stress? It’s worrying about something in the future.

Art is now.”

—David Hockney

Hope of Spring © Kathryn LeRoy

If you would like to read more from me, visit my website. I’ll be waiting for you there.

With gratitude,

Kathryn

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