Opening up

 'And now in age I bud again.... on whom thy tempests fell all night', I couldn't quite place it- I was sure it was George Herbert, but knowing that he died at only thirty nine, the phrase 'in age' seemed inappropriate for one so relatively young, by today's standards. Recourse to his Complete Works, though, located the verse in 'The Flower'- my half-hunch was right.. 

Budding again feels about where we are with the country opening up. The personal possibilities seem wider, although still limited. But after fifteen months, the buds of opportunity are welcome; first fruits were seen on Monday- lunch with friends, outside. (No inside lunches till June). 

Buds are things of promise, a down payment on what is to come. As we have moved from Easter to Ascensiontide last week, and anticipate Pentecost, the buds of resurrection life have seemed to pause for ten days, before the flowering next weekend. And then comes the long Trinity season- a time to see that flowering in all its glory, as we recapitulate the Jesus story with the insights and dynamism of Pentecost added to the fizz of Easter. 'I once more smell the dew and rain....O my onely light, it cannot be that I am he on whom thy tempests fell all night.' 

Well, I'm not quite at that stage of disbelief about the past tempests. But I sense the buds, and with the guidance of 'my onely light' relish the thought of the coming flowers.