Every spring, the plum blossoms in my backyard start to bloom and I fall head over heels in love with flowers and spring again. There's something about a long, grey winter that makes little tiny flowers and bright blue skies
that much more magnificent. Well, that, and a little sunshine never hurt anyone, too.
That said, it definitely added a little pep to my step (is that lame of me to say?) to see them blooming outside this last week. It reminds me of all that is to come, all the growth, and the new beginnings we get each and every day.
Which, as I digress, reminded me of the frustrating moment turned refreshing moment when I told a kiddo that we needed to restart the day so she could change her attitude (it works, by the way! knock on wood...).
But back to those plum blossoms. Whenever I see them bloom, I flashback to my childhood days when those blossoms were picked and added into grass-y soups that were "eaten" while playing house. Or when the blossoms turned into plums that my sisters, neighbors, and I ate like cherries (they actually tasted pretty good!). And then those photos. The photos that I took when I first discovered my love for photography.
Which brings me to now. Even though I won't always live with those blossoms in my backyard, I know that those little pink flowers will always remind me of new beginnings.
And that's something that will last longer than those little flowers.
p.s. I have a second guest post for this series up and ready for tomorrow--come back bright and early, okay?
