I‘m writing this on the day after Ash Wednesday – a day for which there is no official name in the liturgical calendar. Outside, the weather is doing what my New England relatives call “spitting snow,” meaning that small flakes are swirling down from the sky without amounting to much on the ground. The sky is the same dirty-white color as the patches of old snow; the same color as the white birch from which our bird feeder hangs with just a thin crust of suet remaining inside. There’s no point in refilling the feeder now; there are rumors of spring, which means that the bears will start stirring on Chipman Hill again.
“Last night, I dreamed it was spring!” one of my daughters announces at breakfast. “I could feel how warm it was!”
Spring will arrive. But for now, snow clouds obscure the Green Mountains, and there’s still great sledding on the north face of our back hill. We hover in this liminal space, the threshold between an ending and a beginning, the almost-but-not-yet.
I feel this liminality in the weather, in this Lenten season between Ash Wednesday and Easter, and in my eldest daughter.
Click here to continue reading my latest “Faith in Vermont” column in The Addison Independent.
2 thoughts on “Spring, Tweens, and Other Liminal Things”
Jill Harper ( “Auntie Jill”
Loved reading this, Faith!
Recognized the tween time as one of
tremulous beginnings. Fear and excitement seem to go hand in hand. Soon enough you’ll
be trying to make your way through the trials and tribulations (and joys) of the teen years.
And there is much fun to look forward to lest you may assume that it’s all angst and hysteria.
It’s really just preparation for the silver lining coming nearer each day! The joyous “Hi, Mom” when she sees you and throws her arms around you because, well just because she loves so much and loves you especially!
Thank you so much for reading, and for your kind comments Auntie Jill! Sending so much love to you and your family. XO