Betwixt-and-Between
In which I make the case for your own moody, temperamental spring
Before we jump into this week’s newsletter, I wanted to share a couple of things:
The second instalment of my conversation with Aaron Niequist for Pastors, Priests, & Guides’
has been posted here. We explore two of the practices from my new book, Field Notes for the Wilderness: Practices for An Evolving Faith and there is even some bonus content on their podcast version, too.If you’re in the Tulsa, Oklahoma area, I’ll be with the good folks at Sanctuary Church on Sunday, April 21 at 10:30. All are welcome to join us, in person or online.
Now let’s get to this week’s Field Notes essay: Betwixt-and-Between.
Hi friends,
All my life, my favourite season was autumn, followed by winter, then summer. Spring registered only as a nuisance. It wasn’t until I moved to British Columbia in 2005 after a lifetime in the prairies and foothills of western Canada (and a brief stint in Oklahoma and Texas) that I learned about how other folks experience spring.
In British Columbia, spring was a crash course in the word “lush.” In the temperate coastal pacific rainforest climate of the Lower Mainland, I spent March through May in a perpetual state of astonishment: mature cherry blossoms heavily arched over the streets in New Westminster, waves of tulips swaying with the weight of their own glory, dogwoods bursting into metaphor on front lawns, bright green grass in carpets across parks. The very soil sang of abundance. Warm rainy days punctuated by sun and cool evenings, I had never seen spring like this; the very air was perfumed. Spring was a sensual experience. It became my absolute favourite season.
Then, a few years ago, we moved back to Calgary, Alberta.
And I remembered why I never liked spring very much.