The only “band” I’d still pay money to see is THE INDIGO GIRLS. I discovered their music in 1990 and I’ve been a faithful listener ever since. When I was still a pathetic grad student in Minnesota [1999-2002], one of their songs spoke to my heart of my new home in Virginia – “Southland in the Springtime.” Sister Cecilia described spring in the Commonwealth. It seemed too magical to be real – Red Bud, Flowering Pear and Cherry Blossoms. When I finally made a visit to Bristow one spring, the legend became reality.
“Now there’s something ‘bout the southland in the springtime -
where the waters flow with confidence and reason.
Though miss her when I’m gone, it won’t ever be too long
‘til I’m home again to spend my favorite season.
When God made me born a Yankee He was teasin’.
There’s no place like home and none more pleasin’,
than the southland in the springtime.”
I took a walk on Monday morning. Here’s some of our southland in the springtime.
Blessings and love to you all…
- Sister Vicki
