Early in the spring, the trees all around our neighborhood blossom in shining white for two-ish weeks. The public ones along the sidewalk are usually the first. Who’s next? Nobody knows.
This year, the tree in our garden was an early bloomer. By the time it had already moved on to green leaves and closed buds, our neighbor’s tree started blossoming. Another neighbor’s was halfway between green and white. Next year, the order will be different again.
We, too, blossom at different times. Nobody knows exactly how, when, or why someone will come into their own. This year, your career might be blooming. Next year, a friend’s luck may seem to never run out while you’re stuck in the hospital. Green, white, brown. Growing, blooming, wilting.
On and on the cycle goes, and while we can never predict the next transition, we do know two things: Flowers aren’t unhappy, and winter is always followed by spring.
