Wabi Sabi Winter

It's been warm for the past two days.
Spring-warm.
Drive with the sunroof open-warm.
Hook up the backyard hose and spray the salt off the car-warm.
Open the windows in the house and chase out the doldrums-warm.
Sit on the back step and watch the birds-warm.

All the snow has simply sunk into the ground.

I keep reminding myself that it is only early February, not spring time yet and besides: I'm not really ready for spring. I love the cold snap of air, the crunchy ice and the way the sun-cast shadows pattern the snowy yard and walks.

During my (almost) daily walks, I savor the sounds of creaking trees, whooshing wings:
winter sounds
Clear Crinky Crispy Snappy sounds

Underneath February, there is the beginnings of the stirrings of spring. There is a whispery soft current streaming underneath February: if you listen carefully.

February's dreary march of days? Not for me. February is a thin crackle of ice that separates us from March.

I say: enjoy the last of winter. Snuggle at nights with your books and your sewing. Enjoy the warm of socks and blankets, of wintry walks and the cold fresh rush of air. Savor hot tea and wooly scarves and the excitement and dread of a sudden snow.
Get up and begin to slowly stretch. Take a walk at night and listen closely.

The show is not over yet.