Wednesday, April 6, 2016

The dramatic music of earliest spring

Here in Edmonton, the natural world is still mostly various shades of dried out brown, juxtaposed against gorgeous blue Alberta skies . However ever so slowly, tiny sprigs of green have begun to dance to the dramatic music of earliest spring.

It reminds me of the beginning stages of a great theatrical performance, that glorious moment when the music has just begun and the first dancers swirl onto the stage, and you sit on seat's edge in captivated wonder.

Over the past week, little green shoots have begun to appear. I was especially excited a few days back to discover that suddenly tiny blue flowers have sprung up by the side of the house.

But, I was also discouraged. You see, my favorite type of     photography is what I call minuscule perspective photography.  I love to get ultra up close, trying to discern the tiniest parts of the whole. It amazes me always at the small scale of beauty that we miss as we go through everyday life.  It takes my breath away to photograph a leaf or a bud or an ant or a dragonfly and to finally have my eyes and spirit opened to its true, miraculous form.

But as each day progressed and the tiny blue flowers, the first flowers of spring, grew into a joyous cluster, like they were having a family reunion,  I grew increasingly discouraged.I couldn't get to them to take pictures! They were a garish thorn in the flesh reminder of my pain and struggles.

 For months I've been slowly recovering from an injury that makes it hard to walk.  Trying to walk over the uneven 3ft patch of grass to see those little blue flowers was absolutely impossible, much less bend down nose to nose so I could take a close up photo. So as each day i wheeled down the sidewalk in my wheelchair I grew increasingly wistful.

Finally last night I determined perhaps their must be a way... and I found one!

My upper body is very weak due to my 16 year oddesy with a chronic pain causing health condition- probably my strength is in the less than 3rd percentile for a woman my age.  But then again a few months of wheelchair wheeling inside my home has built up my arm strength a I decided it was worth it to try and see what my upper body could do.

While holding onto the bottom stair on our front steps, I carefully lowered myself to the ground, . Then by partially crawling, dragging myself, and semi-rolling in a most undignified, non-35 year old mother of a teenager way...  I made my way toward those flowers, pulling myself inch by inch with my newly stronger upper body.

And I made it...nose to nose to with those flowers.  Spirit to spirit, created being to created being.

And I realized two things.
1) Those flowers that looked so blue from afar are actually a delicate white with   darling powder blue stripes.
2) My body and abilities may have changed.  My spirit hasn't.  I'm still the same creative, kooky, eccentric, determined, plant-loving Jenna.  I'm still here, me.  For a while I wasn't sure.  Now I know I am.