One small shade tree.

Once upon a time, April was the month of endings, rather than a month of fresh and new.

I was reminded of that last night when a friend was in turmoil about our winter ending. I remember three years ago grasping the whoosh of air left by my foreign friends hoping it would leave me with some semblance of sanity.

Now, I realize April is similiar to the crescent moon, part of it's glory hidden in a shadow. It waits behind a curtain of time for the right moment to appear before us.

Sometimes we only see the small thin shadow we throw as we pass through our life. We forget that the size morphs into different shapes. We envelop other people within it's shade. We provide relief for our friends, or, a place of love and entertainment.

So, while I struggle a little during April, I realize it's momentary and I hope she realizes it will change for her as well.