By guest blogger Portia Heller

As I look out the window, I swear I can see the leaves actually burgeoning right in front of my eyes. I always love these too few days of green blush that covers the barren branches. The pale, yet vibrant green is a shade that is much too fleeting. Maturity will soon grab the reins and rush the entire pallet into the deep, verdant emerald of pre-summer. Interesting. As I think about that, every year for my entire life, I have wished I could halt this youthful, leafy exuberance. Guess that is the normal cycle in all humans. We want our little ones to stay in the glory of innocence, because it is so extraordinary, and we know that with the cloak of maturity come the storms and winds, and in the case of the leaves, the bigger the leaf, the more area to catch those winds and be shredded, or torn, or brutally ripped from the branch.