There is a deep sticky matted layer of dead leaves that sat under the snow and ice all winter. The ice is gone now, leaving only the wet, leaf mould, and bits of persistent green that I suspect are unkillable weeds. They will outlive us all. But pushing their way from beneath are the green blades with rounded tips, daffodils coming forth, stronger than the dead leaves, stronger than the winter was.
There are wood frogs singing now in the field behind me. It began as a barely noticeable chirp one night when it rained, then almost nothing again, and now loud each night, all of them trilling, calling for mates, calling just to talk, maybe? I don’t know. But they are calling, singing, stronger than the cold mud, stronger than the winter was.
A critical skill in re-enchanting ourselves and our lives is to notice what is wondrous, stunning in its simplicity, pure and perfect. We fail to notice it sometimes, and steal away our own joy in doing so.
Every season, every day has something to unfold for us. Noticing it is the most simple and most powerful act of magic. It is the foundation of all power. To notice, to be aware, to observe something without judging it; this is the most critical of all skills, and the one that we so often fail to do.
Our lives are busy, but with what? Do we even notice what we are busy with? Whether it is something we enjoy, or do not enjoy, we must take the time to notice it. Only when we take time to notice, can we decide what enriches us or does not, what needs help or does not, what thrills us and makes us feel more alive.
Today, for me, it’s just the daffodils, and the frogs. That’s an okay thing. It’s a good thing. This is today’s foundation. New life, green shoots, singing frogs, I see you.
I see you