Every spring there are trees in my neighborhood that seemingly overnight explode with pink petals. For a couple of weeks they line the sidewalks I walk and run in the evenings. At some point there is always a spring storm that turns these pink trees into sidewalks of pink petal raindrops. The trees are still bring green and lovely, but not the magical pink that I so enjoyed. Which made it awesome last week when I found a little survivor during a run. One little tree, perhaps a runt that was late to the party.

For the rest of my run home, I kept thinking about that little tree. It was proof that there is change happening during these days that blend together and months that don’t seem to end. In a field of grass and trees 10 times its size, it stood out as unique and important. And in making it through all the rainstorms of the weeks before, it seemed to be choosing joy when it is so much easier to give in to the rain.

Now the 30-something in me knows that this little tree does not have all of the intentionality that I’m putting on it. But the princess in me that still hopes for a unicorn to show up around the corner…that part says thank you to this little piece of nature for offering joy to our city.

“We are the spark, that will light the fire that’ll burn the First Order down” (Poe Dameron, Star Wars: The Last Jedi). – #52sparks is my year-long writing series for 2020, based on an art prompt challenge. The spark that lights a fire to toast a marshmallow or to ravage a forest begins in the space of an inch. This series is to explore what hundreds of inches and words can do.