I love to look out my office window. I get to see weather patterns and seasons changing be it sunny, cloudy, windy, leaves turning color and dropping to the ground, snow piling up, frost on the grass, buds appearing on the trees again, flowers popping through the ground, grass rising up, turning green, needing to be mowed, whirlybird seedlings hitting the pavement, covering the yard with such a mess….
That’s what an adult mind thinks about when looking at those seeds. What a mess. They are all over…my deck, my yard, my driveway…But as I sit here and take a peek out my window, some memories come to light.
A back to the future moment.
I am walking down 8th street to school, skipping my way over those sidewalk cracks that I shouldn’t step on “because I might break my mother’s back” cracks. Somewhere along the way I begin to notice those wonderful whirlybird seedlings, the ones you put between your lips and painfully try to get a whistle out of them. Well, that would be my mission for the day, or the week, the season those things were on the ground. I would pick up one after another until I would find that one whirlybird that would fit my lips and transform into a buzz of a whistle. I’d toss the others on the ground, keep the one or two that worked and be on my way to school, hanging on to my treasure, looking forward to whistling my way home, only to be on the look out for more.
Ah to be like a child again when approaching my days. I believe it can happen. I just need to be intentional. Enjoy these moments. Take the time to reflect and relive, be determined to spontaneously think and be like a child. After all, Jesus says it’s the children who understand the kingdom of God, it’s the children who are by nature trusting and unpretentious. As a child I assumed that these whirlybird seedlings were simply potential material for a good whistle. As a child I didn’t reflect on the mess they were making in my yard or on the sidewalk with the cracks that I shouldn’t step on “because I might break my mother’s back” cracks. I believed those seedlings were there for the taking, for the whistling. Trusting and unpretentious I knew I could count on them arriving every spring.
So as I sit here today, looking out my window, I see piles of whirlybird seedlings lining my driveway, trying to take root in my yard. But today I am determined to enjoy the season, mess and all, not worrying about what those seedlings might do to ‘ruin’ my lawn. Instead I will choose to remember those spring days gone by, when my world was smaller, simpler. I think I might go on the hunt for that one or two that will fit my lips with a healthy buzz of a whistle and enjoy the moment and the memories of a day gone by.