The Eternal Hope of Spring

How can one not love this time of year?  This time of the year brings forth all sorts of newness and spawns the eternal hope of renewal for so many things.  The eternal hope of Spring comes every year, but rarely lasts longer than a few months.  The joy of this season for me is almost uncontainable and I look forward to it with immense anticipation.  At times, hope swells beyond control and occasionally bubbles to the surface on my face or even in the sparkle of my eyes.  This Spring, nothing has changed.  I eagerly await that which I have yearned for since it last left.

For some, Spring means the chance to get out of doors.  Spring brings forth the desire to shed the confines of the abode and venture to new places, seeing new sites along the way.  The chance to attain mountain highs or the valley’s depths inspire many to don quickly packed clothing and devour hastily prepared snacks as they clamor towards a space of solitude amongst God’s great creation.  I, too, long for these spaces and, in the past, have heeded their call.  I have been fortunate enough to gander upon hidden wonders and soak up rays of sunshine as I traverse among the stately pines on the Northwest.  Again, these spaces are calling to me, but my eternal hope of Spring does not lie there.

For others, the eternal hope of Spring brings forth new growth.  As the sun warms the Earth and the falling rains soak the land, new life emerges from what appears to be death’s grip.  Naked trees begin to clothe themselves in green buds, seeking a rebirth of sorts.  Soon, bare soil comes to life with carpets of green and the grass coats vast valleys with its protective blanket.  Flowers begin their delicate lives from nothingness, it seems.  Suddenly they make their appearances everywhere, shining forth the joy they bring to so many.  Yes, this time of year brings new life and hope.  Nature reminds us that all is not lost and that we can start anew once more.  Again, I find joy in this part of Spring’s emergence.  I am awed at the struggle in which many partake to coax their yard’s landscape to be revitalized.  Can they make the lawn lavishly lush again?  Can they control the warrior weeds?  Will the flowers flounder or flourish?  Yet, while these struggles are calling, my eternal hope of Spring does not lie here.

For still others, Spring brings new and budding romance.  The hope of emerging nature and silent solitude is overrun with fluttering hearts and heals over heads.  Much like the reminders of that which comes with this Spring, we are reminded that companionship is what all humans clamor for.  Shared experiences are better than those of loneliness.  The romance of the season lurks under the surface, waiting to be released.  For those lucky enough to find it, smiles and laughter are intertwined with moments of tenderness such as holding hands, hugs, and kisses.  Sun provides the warmth for the earth, but romance supplies warmth for the heart.  As I have experienced these times in the past, I treasured them for I knew they may only be fleeting moments; however, my eternal hope of Spring does not lie there either.

My eternal hope of Spring lies, like so many other sports fans, with the “Boys of Summer.”  My eternal hope comes with the reporting of pitchers and catchers to warmer climes such as Florida and Arizona.  My eternal hope springs forth as the snap of the glove and the knock of the bat are heard once again.  My eternal hope rises to the surface as anticipation of a new season, a new year, a new chance comes.  For me, Spring is the re-emergence of the greatest sport known to man.  No games have been played and everyone has an equal chance at immortality.  The off-season has come to a close and soon dusty diamonds all over the world will once again ring with the laughter of children learning the game.  Fields of dreams will come alive, daring men to dance upon them.  Fans will gather in homes, in stands, in stadiums to witness delightful deeds of the diamond or witness foolish field follies.  We will yell at men in blue and at televisions as though it will make a difference, believing in “our” team once again.   The eternal hope of Spring gives me and all other fans the chance to dream once more that our team will stand alone in October.  Champions!

The real eternal hope of Spring is . . . baseball.

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