One week at a time, this rainy spring has slipped by and we find ourselves on the verge of summer. I’m getting to know this tree again, that blooms outside our window, and it’s a nice surprise after 15 years to remember how beautiful it is. The flowers in the spring and the leaves in the fall tell the stories of the seasons, and every morning its branches are alive with birds. There are so many beautiful things about living here!

This scene from our Sunday morning jog is another favorite. We run up the steps to absorb Lincoln’s wisdom as the sun comes up, and most times encounter young couples dressed in suits and wedding gowns posing for engagement pictures. It’s magical that we get to see this, in our sweaty running clothes.

For Easter this year we rolled out of bed with blankets and hot coffee before the sun came up. There is a sunrise service at Arlington Cemetery, and I can’t imagine a more beautiful or sacred place to listen to a choir sing the Hallelujah Chorus.

Mimi made an Easter bread, and well, even with all the bigger symbolism involved, it’s just hard to resist bunnies at Easter.

The memories here are taking shape and even Gus is making himself at home.

May also means the school year will be wrapping up soon, a solid year of U.S. high school that has gone amazingly well. It’s been nice to learn that schools here are communities, and even though Americans maybe don’t go to church or workplaces as much as they used to, there is still a community being created at school. Through volunteering, bake sales, meeting other parents at fundraisers, bonding over games and as event chaperones, the boys are making new friends and going to pasta dinners every Friday with their teams, and Mike and I are swimming along in this new stream, too. The feeling is busy but strangely quiet, like watching flowers grow in a garden that was planted for this exact purpose a long time ago.

And feeling like this time, we won’t be tearing out the garden three years from now, and this move doesn’t have to be temporary.

Like maybe it’s safe to just be here, and breathe.

A few other scenes from our weekends….

And another amazing spring memory, celebrating one of the most beautiful people in the world …

Orchestra concerts, driving practice, new friends, joining crew, learning how to navigate difficult topics, like racism and the menu at Taco Bell… the boys’ life has broadened so much since moving here. The world and all its lessons are exploding in front of them, and the ground is uncomfortably shifting. But we’ve also learned by now that “change” doesn’t mean things will get worse. And that every time the ground shifts, we eventually find our footing again.

If the permanence of things is an illusion, then looking for permanence is an anxious pursuit, a loop of never ending loss. The flowers and the seasons seem to have always known this, facing both permanence and illusion with a remorseless blaze of glory. Nature, patiently showing us that time is not an enemy, and change is not an ending.

The only moment that never ends is Now. And even when the flowers fade, they find their way back to blooming again.