It’s sunny today, and I find myself thinking of a character in one of Margaret Atwood’s The MaddAddam Trilogy. She was lethargic and unable to do much of what she used to do, and they described it as being in a “fallow period.”
While you’d likely agree much of Atwood’s writing sticks with you regardless, that description has stayed with me, and comes to mind as I watch the buds returning to the trees almost in real time, and see color starting to run down branches in the race to summer.
I’ve had my own “fallow” period, soil frozen with the coldness of the world and my own personal tragedies, and I can’t help but feel that same warming as the ground outside. Of course I want to temper it, out of fear of those unpredictable meteorites that seem intent to knock us down.
If such things can have intentions.
Whatever your personal season, the fact is that they never last forever. The ebbs and flows may feel like they span full epochs, but even the dinosaurs arrived and departed.
I really love the idea of that time not being fruitless. Instead, it is the very fertilizer for the fruit, the thing that makes growth sustainable and even possible. It’s a gathering, not a languishing.
And with that, I wish you a wonderful, fruitful start to your week, and if you’re in a fallow period, allow yourself to be replenished.
A Bit to Read 