fresh growth

I'm walking in New Zealand, in the far north of the North Island, and I've paused for a moment next to a small shrub. It may be a young tree, I'm not sure. What caught my attention was the fresh growth: tiny little needle-like, fresh, light green leaves. They stand out, very distinct from the old growth, from last year's leaves, which are much darker in colour, and in some places browning.

And seeing this fresh growth, this year's new growth, it reminds me that we as humans, as well, go through cycles of growth. And this fresh, hopeful growth of another year looks so pure to me: innocent, un-jaded. And it doesn't matter what last year's growth was like – whether it was bountiful or rather sparse, whether it was beautiful or anguished – still this year's new growth is building on it, stretching further out into the world, reaching higher into the sky.

This is the way we can live our life too: not bemoaning what has happened to us in the past, but building on it, and creating fresh new growth, regardless of what has gone before.

This shrub is bringing me this sense of newness, a joy in rejuvenation that comes with a new season.