My husband and I just returned from a trip to Montana, where my husband's family lives. His beloved Grandmother recently passed away, and we decided to make the trip to be together as a family and support each other. Death is a transition for more than just the person who has passed.
I have never been in Montana in the spring, and I was startled by how wintery it still felt. We were scraping ice off of our car's widshield, and it snowed almost every day that we were there. Still, the birds knew that it was spring time even if the weather seemed ambiguous.
While we were there, I was able to visit a women's quilting group that my Mother-in-law is a part of. The home that we visited was on a small farm and we were able to bring home a lovely bunch of fresh eggs, including two turkey eggs; proof of spring right there. Back home now, the season is obvious in the velvet green of our lawns and by the sound of people out and about. I treasured the time that we were visiting family, but it's good to be back in my familiar landscape!