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Standing on the side of the road, knee deep in muddy soil, amidst patches of snow and ice, she takes a load of shit.  Most people don’t even see her, and if they do, pay her no attention as they hasten by. Unwittingly spraying her with their murky waters. Unknowingly missing out on her magic personality.

No matter what you throw at her, she keeps on smiling. Her inner glow and ruffled beauty lightening up the day for everyone who truly sees her. Her stubborn and obvious joie de vivre, her ability to defy any attempt to debase her belief in life, are both moving and catching.

She demands nothing but the meagrest of circumstances, yet, she gives life her all. An incarnation of spring, her appearance on the late winter scene bears promises of good times to come; of flowery meadows, deep blue cloud 9 skies and rainbows reflected in the mist of a waterfall.

When days are cold and grey, and everybody else is staying under the covers, abiding the arrival of better times, she puts on her best dress and goes out to live her life, to meet the world. Convinced that this is the time, right here, right now. Knowing that we all have to make our own summers, regardless of circumstances, weather gods and other people’s notions.

As I spotted her for the first time this year, driving along a much frequented road, I hit my breaks, nearly causing a chain collision. The guy in the car behind me honked his horn and gesticulated wildly, indicating a slight mental anomaly on my part. And I plead guilty. I can’t help myself. Each spring, whenever I lay eyes on her for the first time it’s like falling in love all over again.

I can’t think of anything more life enhancing than kneeling down beside her, stroking her petals and sniffing in her infatuating fragrance, coming up for air with yellow pollen on my nose and sunshine in my heart.

Shit happens to all of us, hitting us in different ways and with varying force and frequency. But no matter what form it comes in, we have a choice in how we react; we can allow incoming dirt to stick, permanently staining ourselves and our lives.

Or we may choose to deal with the muck as best we can, before shaking it off with a mental or bodily Shit Shake. Like the incarnated Spring Spirit, Tussilago Farfara, keeping our faces towards the sun, reflecting its rays on other people and focusing on who and what is good in our lives and in the world