Gentle flutters of wind brush past us as husky straws of grass rustle around our feet. The earthy smell of the damp soil—our final reminder of the remnants of winter’s icy crust—fills the air with freshness and new beginnings. Barren branches are lively again, with tiny sprouts awaiting their time to blossom. Hibernating fauna awakening from their long slumber scurrying around as they begin anew with the changing season. The sun covers the serene scape with its golden warmth, hugging every peak and valley with its loving embrace. With each passing day, the grass grows a little bit greener, tree branches get a little bit fuller, and the sun gets a little bit brighter.
It doesn’t take much to appreciate the changing of the season. The glorious scenery is difficult to not behold. Perhaps the beauty of the new spring world is not just the blooming scape in its flourishing form, but the days of transitions and growth it took to get there. While every day, at the time, seemed to blur into the other, what seems most memorable is the final form.
But the thing is, the form is not final. And it never is.
The world is always changing. It’s easy to talk about—what we think of as—the start and finish lines, but what we really need to appreciate is everything in between.
The truth is, there are no finish lines. There are no starting lines either. Just milestones in the transitions that we go through in life. These transitions aren’t always linear, nor are they written in stone, but, like they say, the journey is the destination.
As this school year wraps up, take the time to appreciate how far you’ve come, everything you’ve conquered, and everything you put up a fight against. Realize, in your reminiscing, that with each passing day, the grass grew a little bit greener, the tree branches got a little bit fuller, and the sun got a little bit brighter.