I ran five miles on Parrott Mountain this weekend on a picture-perfect spring day. The sun warmed the top of my head and my back. My body begged me to shed my long-sleeved T-shirt and let these arms have one of their first kisses of sunshine. The vineyards that slumbered all winter are transforming before my eyes. Little bits of color appear on gray vines that diagonally and uniformly stand at attention on mountain fields. The mountain was painted in vibrant hues of greens as the trees take on new life and florescent green buds cover the tips of the branches.
The air is crisp. Clean. I inhaled the glorious smell of the first fresh-cut grass of the season. Ran under a canopy of flowering cherry trees and grew intoxicated by their fragrance and beauty. Who needs an iPod when you have the birds to serenade you as they twitter about in a bright blue sky? The sun illuminated the dark forest and a mountain creek burbled over rocks and sticks. Bullfrogs croaked in someone's koi pond.
I startled a deer grazing on fresh strips of new grass. It gave me a dirty look for disturbing lunch and bounded off into the woods. Daffodils stand proud next to clusters of wild, purple mountain flowers.
My feet crunched the gravel and my breathing approached wheezing as I climbed and descended, climbed and descended. Long-sleeved T-shirt came off and my shoulders, back and arms soaked in the warmth of the sun while sweat poured down my face and off my chin. It was glorious!
I couldn't help but thank God for designing a cycle of seasons that so closely reflects the cycle of life. As I celebrated the arrival of spring, I also celebrated God's willingness to give me new beginnings, second chances, and a fresh SPRING in my step.