Yesterday was another sunny, fresh, doesn't-get-better-than-this day. After the quiet, hidden gestation of winter, the world is being born again. It is clear and obvious to observe everywhere.

We went to Panera Bread for lunch and then to the library, and oh my, the magnolia, forsythia, peach, pear and apple, redbud, weeping cherry-- oh, all manner of trees and spring flowers are in full bloom. We drove and walked through storms of petals, as if we were bride and groom again. Born again.

Today the sky is gray-white, and this morning all is quiet, though tornadoes have stormed across the southern states with fatal power, and strong storms are forecast later for here, as well. Nature is neither kind nor compassionate in the sense of human understanding. The springtime world is as fierce as the winter world was.

Instead of striving to avoid the storm, I now strive to deeply notice every moment; I strive to notice as much as I can of what rises, exists for a moment, and passes away. Within any and every moment, I give profound thanks for family and friends who exist and travel, noticing, in this world with me.