The warm winds of spring are chased away the winter cold and the natural world has unfolded its thanks. The difference is immediately apparent to me as I head into the marsh. The Douglas firs are covered with pollen cones and raining amber clouds over the forest. White blossoms have covered the bitter cherry trees. The bigleaf maple buds have popped in a burst of light green with clusters of pollen cones hanging like grapes ripe for the picking. Lilly pads have popped up in the marsh along with new reeds and cattails, and the tired look of late March has been replaced with the full, fresh, and ripe look of late April. The crisp, chilly, and wintery smell has been replaced with the smell of pollen and leaves.

I reach the marsh and walk out to sit in my usual spot, on a tree that long ago fell into the marsh and now provides a weathered seat for me. With the absence of rain, the water level has decreased dramatically. The birds are also not as visible as they were in winter. I can still hear them, but when I do see them they are nervous and almost immediately try to move back under cover. I know that they are currently hiding to protect the little lives they are bringing into the world, tucked away in the safe havens of reeds and branches. The world they have to live in is dangerous and filled with predators. Some will not be so fortunate, but others will be successful and thereby succeed as they fulfill the Creator’s mandate to be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth with their kind. As I walk off my log, a large garter snake quietly slithers into the reeds, reminding me of the fact that the natural world was compromised, partially due to the wily efforts of another serpent. But the Seed of the Woman, Our Creator, has come and overcome the serpent forever, and now the birds are singing the new anthem of the new creation.

As I walk back into the forest and hear the towhees and sparrows quietly rustling through the underbrush, I continue to look for signs of spring in the forest. Flowers of all sorts are beginning to spring up from the needles and dirt of the forest floor. I pick some of them as I walk by, flowers of different shapes, sizes and colors. I pick up a small fir branch that has fallen to the ground and see the full, overflowing pollen cones. Even the weeds by the wayside as I head out of the marsh receive my due attention, for even though they are annoying in my garden, they too shout the message of color, joy, and life that spring brings to the earth. As I walk out of the forest, I am holding a large bunch of flowers in my hand. I have spring in one hand.

Death will not hold the natural world even as it could not hold its Creator who came and died so that it could be saved and renewed. Just as winter gives way to the overwhelming warmth of spring, so the cycle of endless death, pain, groaning and travailing that grips the natural world will give way to the life of the new creation on that great day when the earth shall be as full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea. And the birds know it. I truly believe that when they are singing, they are singing praise to the Creator that they know is coming to save them and renew this world so they will not have to suffer any longer. We would do well to learn this lesson of the birds. Even as they are suffering, they sing in anticipation of the great and glorious day of redemption, the day when the true and greatest Spring, the season of renewal, the final Year of Jubilee comes. We should sing in anticipation of that day too, and whenever we take the Creator's Word in our hands, we should know that we are holding the promise of that great eternal Spring.

When though the woods and forest glades I wander
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees
When I look up on lofty mountain grandeur
And hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee
How great thou art! How great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee
How great thou art! How great thou art!

When Christ shall come with shouts of acclamation
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
When I bow down in humble adoration
And there proclaim, my God, how great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee
How great thou art! How great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee
How great thou art! How great thou art!

-Stuart Hine