We’ve had a gorgeous spring. For weeks the temperature has peaked somewhere between 55 and 80, and dropped into the 40s at night. Every tree and flower seemed to bloom at once, and the colors lasted for days. This is not what I expect from Kansas, where spring usually happens for an hour or so on a soccer Saturday when we’re all too busy to notice.

Like all good things, the mild weather and the blooms are coming to an end. This week brought humidity and thunderstorms. The dogwood blossoms are gone and the bridal wreath has turned a discouraging brown. Still I managed to capture some beauty with my new camera.

These days when the lawn looks like this,

The mailbox is filled with these:

Children whose baby showers I attended are graduating from high school. Like the trees outside my window, they refuse to stay in just one season of their lives. Life moves so fast it sometimes gives me whiplash.

The first Sunday in May is Graduate Sunday at church. I’ve been watching graduates cross the stage for more than a decade now, and the sight never fails to move me. Somebody’s child, all grown up, is about to take that first big step on her own. Last year it was Betsy’s turn. Next year, Emily’s. So this is a resting year. A year to catch my breath, and count the treasured days:

When family still gathers around our dinner table.
When children still need our guidance and protection,
and our car keys, and our insurance.

I know my kids grow stronger with every season of life, and flying the nest is the end goal of parenting. I know there’s no graduating from a family; we’ll stay connected even when they move out.

I can’t hold onto springtime, and I can’t keep my children from growing up. It seems to me the best I can do is notice the seasons as they pass.

Hello, Summer.