A Norvell Note
March 23, 2025 – Vol. 29 No. 12
N. Hervey Street
The transformation always seemed like it happened overnight.
The drive into town (Hope, Arkansas) on what was then known as N. Hervey Street had big oak trees on each side of the street until the underpass.
In the summer, these giant oaks provided a canopy of shade for all who passed through in cars or bicycles.
In the Fall, the leaves drifted in the breeze as they took on the new role of carpeting the street and sidewalk. In the winter, the branches were bare as if reminding me of the dark and lonely days of loss I had experienced and preparing me for others to come.
But in the Spring, after those cold and barren days of winter, erupted with new life. The transformation always seemed to happen overnight. The naked limbs and branches that I had passed on the way home the day before had become clothed first with the brownish string-like things (I still call them worm-like-things), then soon disconnected and rained down on the street and sidewalk, clearing the way for the green growth of Spring.[1]
I loved that drive into downtown Hope.
That drive has changed from the images I carry with me. The street is broader now. Most (if not all) of the big oak trees are gone. I remember the shock of driving into town after the city had removed trees. I still feel sad when I drive into town on N. Hervey Street.
So why am I taking this nostalgic drive down N. Hervey Street today? I don’t know, but it has to do with changing seasons. It’s dry and dusty in South Central Texas. We need rain. Although there are signs of Spring, the transformation this year seems slow. I have seen some red buds (I think they look purple), green fields, and pastures, and our yard is gradually turning from brown to green. I have noticed some brownish string-like things hanging from the big oak trees.
I enjoy change. I like to rearrange furniture (especially in my office/study), and I want to try new and different ways of doing things in hopes of improvement. I’ve been called a change agent by some. I took it as a compliment, even though that was not the intent. However, I’ve experienced enough loss and identify well with those who grieve and understand that change is hard. It is painful. It takes time for grief to do its work. And grief must be allowed to do its job.
As I sit here, reflecting on the changes I’ve witnessed, I realize that change is inevitable. The seasons teach us this lesson year after year. They show us that while the old must give way, it paves the way for the new. The transformation, though sometimes slow and painful, brings growth and renewal.
So, as I look out at the transitioning landscape of my life and surroundings, I find comfort in knowing that each season brings its beauty and lessons. Change may be challenging, but it is also a testament to life’s enduring cycle of renewal and hope.
The drive into Hope on N. Hervey Street seems to be that reminder to me. I hope you have a street like N. Hervey Street in your life.
A Norvell Note © Copyright 2025 Tom Norvell All Rights Reserved
they were afraid. No one can hurt me.
