Forsythias dotted my early pandemic walks. Against a still-grey landscape, the vibrant flowers announced spring. Hope was elusive as the coronavirus emerged, and seeing the forsythias in bloom gave me brief moments of respite.
One year later, it was jarring to see the lemony forsythia blooms peeking out once again. How had a year of sameness passed? Why was I feeling lackluster as the world awakened? The heightened panic of 2020 and 2021 had numbed me, and I’d been plodding along in a pandemic haze.
This spring, the forsythias were painfully and pleasantly piercing. The bright yellow shrubs shot me back to the scary days of last year, but they also brought optimism and a tiny bit of joy. Forsythias are harbingers of spring. Often the first flowers to bloom, they announce a new season. They instill anticipation. And, for me, they cultivate hope.
The word harbinger comes from the Old French word herbergier—to provide lodging for. If you’re a French speaker, think of the words auberge or hospice—spaces of protection and care. In English, the word harbor echoes the sentiment of shelter. Before this spring, I had never understood that a harbinger could serve as both herald and protector. This spring and last, fiery forsythia flowers anchored my outings. Never had I found so much solace in the landscape. Never had nature been so comforting to me.
In Kentucky, the forsythia shrubs have mostly turned green—already! Though spring colors are fleeting, the season’s marvels continue to serve as an escape from the traumas of late-stage pandemic life. The birdsong invigorates, and the dappled light inspires. The world is alive!
Inspriations
Very uplifting in a time of personal renewal. Thank you.