2010-Cold, windy, another snowstorm on the way. Bad feelings are rampant, (not just me), as if the mind has failed to persuade that spring is pulsing underneath- the feeling is of deep disappointment, dread and doubt- do I have it in me to wait it out? Will I make it? Bad situations are manifesting. Everything in me feels hunched up and angry, but…
The forced forsythia is showing green and seems to promise many blossoms this year.
The days are noticeably longer which cuts through the heaviness some, when walking back to the studio after dinner I can see orange clouds still hugging the horizon.
The sun feels stronger too, even through the cold you can feel its warmth like those little Egyptian sun hands patting you on the back.
Out at the reservoir, one of the eagles was sitting on the nest-I could hear its cries as I got near. It continued crying out the whole time I was out there, every half a minute or so. I assume it was calling its mate to come back and relieve it, or maybe it was hungry, but he/she never showed up the whole hour I was out there.
Yesterday there appeared to be no one on the nest unless it was hunkered down in there. An eagle flew by high overhead but didn’t stop.
I expected the starlings to get into some kind of an uproar when they discovered the roof space where they’ve been nesting has been closed off, but this morning there was just one sitting quietly in the shrubbery looking very sad.
It’s cold and windy again but for just a second the wind had the look and feel of the waking-up-the-trees winds of March.
Oh and yes! The forced forsythia is breaking into exuberant bloom!
2011-It was brutal cold last night, down in the single digits. The things I have been observing are all signs of spring; the lone robin hopping on the dirty snow bank (I guess they are no longer signs of spring, but I have not seen one all winter), the willows seem to be coloring up, but of that I’m not sure either, the eagles are busy busy busy at the nest. And one day the surface of the reservoir was a solid unbroken field of ice and snow; after one warm afternoon it was full of dark and rotten green looking wet spots, and even a tiny little open water on the west side of the dam. The bulbs I left in the fridge to harden while I was away had sprouted a full pot of leaves, yellow for lack of light. Amazing how in that dark cave they still knew the season. But I feel I’m forcing something, like the cut forsythias I inspect daily for a sign of green. I need to dwell right now on last night, an almost full moon pouring blue light onto a white earth, hard under a shining crust of ice. The purity of that and perfect stillness, perfect quiet.
2012-Spent yesterday cutting wood for the maple syrup fire. The sun felt not warm but hot while I worked. The sap is already flowing, in fact it might already be too late to tap, it’s been that warm. Apparently once the trees start to red up the sap gets what’s called buddy’ and is no longer good for syrup making. I saw snowdrops out on 213 yesterday but no robins yet. The ground is still mostly frozen with a layer of water lying over it.
2013- The best thing about winter, I realize now that it’s passing, is having time to think.
What would I ask for?
For every moment lived
Two to contemplate.
No comments:
Post a Comment