Spring is here and the old is making room for the new.

Yellow, weathered, tired leaves give up their claim to branches, loosen their grip on this life and surrender themselves to the ground, making room so the next in line can live out one glorious season in the sun.

It is a time of loss and rebirth and the transition makes one heck of a mess.

That is life isn’t it?

A series of starts and stops, of prime and decline, of hanging on and letting go.

Change doesn’t come without a bit of a shake up. Without a bit of chaos, without a bit of a mess. Nothing new comes if we don’t surrender the old.

I think of this as I rake up the fallen, the remnants of summer who overstayed their welcome, replaced by a nubile spring. I leave it to nature to work out the details, trust she will get it right, and humble myself to cleaning up the mess.