Every Day Is (Or Should Be) Thanksgiving

Every day should be Thanksgiving.  No, that doesn’t mean we should stuff ourselves with a turkey stuffed with–well, stuffing, along with yams, cranberries, and pumpkin pie on a daily basis.  Nor should we routinely park in front of the television after being so gorged for a marathon session of football-viewing.  And it certainly doesn’t mean it is a good idea to rush out to the nearest megastore or shopping mall immediately following the above activities every day to join the throngs looking for bargains, or simply getting an early start on seasonal shopping!

What I do mean is this.  There is so much around us in this marvelous world of ours that is worthy of our notice, appreciation, and thanks.  Take a look at a bare tree (those of you who live in northern climates).  See those little buds?  Yes, those are next year’s leaves, waiting for the right moment to unfurl.  If that isn’t miraculous, I don’t know what is.  And think about a fragile little butterfly.  In the fall, it makes an arduous trek all the way to Mexico or another warm spot where it spends the winter–before mating and returning north in the spring.  Once back, the female lays her eggs on only one type of plant–a milkweed–because it’s the only one whose leaves her offspring will eat.

There’s so much more.  An ultrasound picture of a yet-to-be-born grandchild at the age of about 13 weeks thumb-sucking.  Bright, sunny, unseasonably warm weather when we don’t have to go to work.  I could go on and on, but the brilliant warmth outside is calling me. . .

We’ve Got Quinces

The other day, my husband was tackling the lawn (I use the term loosely) in our back yard when he took a look at our quince tree.  It hasn’t been productive in the last year or two, but he noticed some baby fruit, two, to be exact, nestled among the leaves.  He told me to look and, sure enough, there they were–and I discovered a third, which was already developing some color.  The little quinces are too small to pick, but I am hopeful that this is the year we will finally be able to enjoy the fruits of our beautiful tree.

(A little history: When we acquired this house twenty-five years ago, there was another tree near where the quince now stands.  After it was no more, there was room for the fledgling plant to make its presence known, grow and flourish.  And flourish it has, giving us the gift of spectacular blossoms every spring.)

Now all I’ve got to do is find some great quince recipes…

I’m hopeful…

Happy New Year, Trees!

This may seem like a continuation of my previous posts, but it is more.  Wednesday marks the Jewish holiday of Tu Bishvat, otherwise known as the New Year for the Trees.  This day marks the commencement of the season when early fruit-bearing trees begin their annual cycle in the Land of Israel.  The commemoration is one in which we express appreciation for the everyday miracles in the natural world that surround us.  Yes, it’s nothing short of miraculous when the quince tree in our yard begins to blossom on an unseasonally warm day in January–and the half-opened buds wait patiently for the real arrival of spring.  And there are the tulips that began peeking out of the ground around February 1.  They didn’t even wait for the groundhog to make his pronouncement.  Even though we may be impatient for them to bloom, when they finally do six to eight weeks down the road, we rejoice in the miracle like it’s the first time.

When you next walk past a tree, stop a moment and observe the buds that have been waiting for their grand opening since last autumn’s leaves fell.  What a miracle that is.