But somehow, when I do remember to look for them, I always seem to go looking too late in the season, and I miss them. Has there ever been a spring when I've had pussy willows in a vase on my piano? I don't think so.
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Last week I was given the opportunity to gather with some other mothers who home educate their children, an opportunity for the women to gather and fill our own hearts. The afternoon was just for us, no children. That alone was a rarity. But the beauty that was packed into the few hours together? That was miraculous! A nature walk; tea with scones and jam and clotted cream and berries and oh, so much more; a book giveaway; nature study; an exchange of gifts to refresh our lives; rich conversations about books and history and life and hopes.
The topic of the nature study was none other than those sweet pussy willows. Samples from two different sources were brought in, and we spent time looking, sharing observations, listening to nature lore about them, hearing details about their characteristics.
Who doesn't love those little white-grey buds that look like tiny kitten toes peeking out? Who can resist touching?
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| My nature journal entry of those pussy willows. |
A few days later, on a walk with my family, I saw them myself, growing by the wayside of our trail. I might have missed them if I hadn't already been made aware that THIS was the time to be watching.
Isn't that key? Not just to look, but also to look at the right time?
