Spring and Renewal


| 3/18/2016 10:00:00 AM


Susan Slape-HoysagkIt has certainly been more than just the winter’s months since I last wrote. Last summer was full of sunshine and the bounty of my garden as well as of losses including my English Springer Spaniel dog soul mate, Max. I still miss him every day. I knew his short dog life was just going to be that but the pain is no less because of this knowledge. Two months later it was my German Shepherd girl, Sadie. Both were older, yet helping them cross the Rainbow Bridge was still bitter sweet and rivers of tears. 

There have been other losses that were not deaths per se. The emotional toll is still the same. Many days this winter I have felt like the coastal storms and their deluge-ish rains, like my sorrows, would go on ad infinitum. Then there was today. I stepped out of the front door to a beautiful blue sky and sweet perfumed air.

I have a beautiful evergreen clematis growing on the northeast side of my house’s front porch area. It was growing at my mother’s house many years ago but never really thrived, and that is putting it mildly. Because of her frustration with the poor vine’s apparent lack of vigor she was going to “rip it out and toss it.” Fortuitously for both the clematis and myself, I was present for her lamentation and offered to take it home. What a sad sight that straggly vine was peering out from a large black shroud of a garbage bag. Pitiful. I was actually not too hopeful of its survival.

Snowdrift is a great description, don't you think?

Today was a reminder of spring and renewal, of hope and yes, survival. That initially pathetic little vine has graced the side of my house for years now. Mom did not know what kind of evergreen clematis she had but it looks like an Armandii from the pictures I have seen. The late winter to early spring is the time when this beauty really shines as exemplified by “her” snowdrift of abundant stark white, simple star-shaped beautiful flowers. The clear, crisp air is delicately sweetened by her fragrance. As summer winds down into the cool days of fall I can count on another flush of flowers, not as magnificent as spring, nonetheless beautiful and aromatic. Beauty, strength, resilience. 



Simple beauty.