Jenny Holzer, artist

Today, surveying the splendors of spring, I discovered a chair lodged high in our tree.

It's been a wet, windy, gray winter. And now, according to the calendar, we're in spring. But the sky is hanging fierce to its damp mood, shaking out rain and gloom.

Wearing my tired sweaters and scuffed boots, I shake my fist at the sky. "Please," I plead, "let me wear something other than high necks, thick sleeves, wool and fleece."

I won't even ask for an open-toe shoe. Even a shoe without socks would suffice.

But because rain and bitterness threaten to rust my heart, I'm challenged to set aside my gripes. And so, I look past the neighbor's deck chair wedged in my spruce.

Setting aside the furniture, I see camellias in a burst of hot pink, a clutch of hyacinths, and a shag carpet of grass. Daffodils, my favorite announcement of spring, pop up in unexpected places. As if wild, they dot remote roads in a random pattern, and patchwork through vacant lots and scraps of land.

In the gray of a record gloom* spring flowers are the happy-to-know-you welcome wagon. They arrive to the party early, and with too much enthusiasm. But, oh, how I'm drawn to the tender promise. Hand me a loopy bouquet of these spring charmers. I'll never turn from the innocence of those not yet battered by weather and wear.

* not just my disposition, but real data showing Oregon's wettest winter on record.

It's Thankful Thursday, a weekly pause to express appreciation for people, places, things, and more. And today It's Thankful Thursday on Tuesday because the best way to minimize a sour mood is to move toward gratitude. What are you thankful for today?