Yikes, today -- besides being Mozart's birthday -- is Septuagesima Sunday. That means we are in the pre-Lenten season! Which, Mozart would have known that. But me, I did not.
Above is a picture of me leaving St. Anthony of Padua Church weighed down by the awareness that Lent is upon us. Last year, Septuagesima Sunday also sneaked up on me.
I remember I first heard of Septuagesima Sunday when I was in California with Pennario. I was going to my first Tridentine Masses and a lot was new to me. Septuagesima means you are counting down until Easter. It means that there are 70 days, more or less, until Easter. Leonard helped explain that to me.
I guess this is God telling me to take down my Christmas tree.
On the bright side ... I am sure the word Lent is related to Lenz, which is archaic German for spring. So as of now we can think spring, should we so desire. I do not always desire. Just yesterday I was thinking I love the flavors of winter: cinnamon and cloves and cranberries. Plus I have pumpkins still to eat.
Were I to want spring, though, I would be cheered by signs I have been noticing. The daffodils have been up for weeks! In a holding pattern, but up.
Just this morning I found myself listening for the call of the chickadee, just in case. I did not hear the chickadee. But I will hear it any day now.
Meanwhile I did hear the other sound of spring ... the guy from the nearby group home, carrying on.
That is a sure sign of spring!
Like it or not.
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