The Comeback We Can Count On
A reminder from the natural world that life moves forward—even when the world feels stuck.
When Winter Won’t Quit
Winter has a way of overstaying its welcome. Some years, it feels like it’s dug in for good. I catch myself wishing for an old-school spring—the kind where the weather warms up and stays that way.
But the truth is, maybe spring never worked like that. Maybe I didn’t care as much about the cold when I was younger.
Still, even when I am frustrated by how long winter hangs on, this quiet little truth shows up year after year: better days are on the way.
“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.”
Albert Camus
Nature Doesn’t Ask for Permission
Here’s what gets me every time: The season starts shifting all around us—not with noise or announcements, but with movement.
Buds return to trees.
Daffodils push through cold, stubborn ground, snow or no snow.
The daylight lingers.
The peepers start singing.
And those red-winged blackbirds? They show up bold as ever, right on schedule.
No one tells them it’s time.
They don’t check the news.
They just know. And they show up.
“To be whole. To be complete. Wildness reminds us what it means to be human.”
Terry Tempest Williams
It’s the same comeback every year. No fanfare. No puffed chests. Just a reminder that life keeps going—even when everything around us feels like it’s stalled.
Dormant Doesn’t Mean Gone
Just because something looks quiet doesn’t mean it’s disappeared. Winter has a way of making everything feel frozen, but under the surface, stuff is still happening. Always.
Maybe we’re not all that different.
We have seasons, too. Some of them are quieter than others. Some are painful. But that doesn’t mean we’re broken.
It might just mean we’re doing the work beneath the surface.
Holding on.
Rebuilding.
Becoming something new.
“There is a season for everything… a time to plant and a time to uproot.”
Ecclesiastes 3:1 (paraphrased)
Resilience Doesn’t Need to Make a Scene
Here’s the thing:
The daffodils don’t host a press conference. The blackbirds don’t write think pieces. The peepers don’t go viral.
They just show up.
They do what they’re here to do. And they do it without trying to be seen. That’s the kind of strength I admire.
Quiet. Steady. Unshakeable.
It reminds me that we don’t have to shout to matter, and we don’t need to prove anything to grow.
Let This Be the Rhythm
This spring, I’m trying to let nature guide the way. Not the noise. Not the fear. Not the headlines or the algorithms.
Just the rhythm I can count on—the one that shows up without permission.
Because healing doesn’t always announce itself, and hope doesn’t need to be loud to be real.
So if you’ve felt stuck lately, quiet, or unsure—maybe this is your season to rise. Not all at once. Not for anyone’s approval. Just because it’s time.
“No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.”
Hal Borland
The crocus that shows up in my front yard every year. No matter how the weather has been over the last few months, this is the first signal for me that we’ll be flipping that switch sooner than we realize!
Talk soon…
G