Driving down Interstate 59 South below Tuscaloosa this week was an experience. It had rained for days, but the sun peeped through the clouds in the early afternoon. The redbuds and a tree with white blossoms were popping out. Seeing the color after months of grey brought a smile to my face. Knowing that March is only a few days away gives me hope.
I know that February is the shortest month of the year, but it seems to last longer than all the rest of the months combined. I know part of the reason that I feel down is that in the past, I’ve lost a lot of family and friends during February, but it’s more than that. It’s the quality of light on most days, and it’s usually rainy and cold.
When it’s cold in February, it seems to penetrate to the bone like a bruise.
What I love about March is that it comes with a promise. Spring arrives in just over two weeks. Soon, we’ll be planting early crops in our raised beds, and I’ll be cussing the tiller. Apparently, the old machine enjoys winter more than I do because it has to be coaxed to life. I’d get rid of it, but we use the old beast to plant the in-ground garden.
It had rained while we were sleeping last night. The skies looked promising this morning, so after coffee, we put on our warm clothes for a walk. Before finishing the first lap, the rain returned along with wind out of the northwest. The last leg of our walk was more of a run.
Even with the thermostat higher than we usually keep it, I shivered.
For lunch, Jilda made a pot of potato soup with small chunks of ham. There is something about warm soup. It seeps down deep into places and warms the soul. Hot soup gives me hope.
This evening, when I sat down at my office desk to write, I glanced up at the calendar on the wall. With my felt tip marker, I X’ed (is that a word?) off another day. “Only three days left in February,” I mused. This made me smile.
And then when I looked through my office window, I saw the sun shining on the yellow bell bush that’s just outside. It looked electric.
Reaching a stopping point, I put on a sweatshirt and my walking shoes. The dogs know the cues, so they were waiting by the door when I headed outside.
Just outside the backyard fence, I noticed that most of the blueberry bushes I planted in January have blossomed.
I was in no hurry, so when I reached the area where we have our beehives, I noticed that they were beginning to stir. I sat for a long time in the chair to watch. It was still cold, but the sun felt warm on my back.
When I looked up from where I was sitting, I noticed pink peach blossoms popping out on the ends of the branches.
By this weekend, the tree will be in full bloom. As I sat there, my spirit felt lighter. I could see March at the end of the tunnel.
I know that February is the shortest month of the year, but it seems to last longer than all the rest of the months combined. I know part of the reason that I feel down is that in the past, I’ve lost a lot of family and friends during February, but it’s more than that. It’s the quality of light on most days, and it’s usually rainy and cold.
When it’s cold in February, it seems to penetrate to the bone like a bruise.
What I love about March is that it comes with a promise. Spring arrives in just over two weeks. Soon, we’ll be planting early crops in our raised beds, and I’ll be cussing the tiller. Apparently, the old machine enjoys winter more than I do because it has to be coaxed to life. I’d get rid of it, but we use the old beast to plant the in-ground garden.
It had rained while we were sleeping last night. The skies looked promising this morning, so after coffee, we put on our warm clothes for a walk. Before finishing the first lap, the rain returned along with wind out of the northwest. The last leg of our walk was more of a run.
Even with the thermostat higher than we usually keep it, I shivered.
For lunch, Jilda made a pot of potato soup with small chunks of ham. There is something about warm soup. It seeps down deep into places and warms the soul. Hot soup gives me hope.
This evening, when I sat down at my office desk to write, I glanced up at the calendar on the wall. With my felt tip marker, I X’ed (is that a word?) off another day. “Only three days left in February,” I mused. This made me smile.
And then when I looked through my office window, I saw the sun shining on the yellow bell bush that’s just outside. It looked electric.
Reaching a stopping point, I put on a sweatshirt and my walking shoes. The dogs know the cues, so they were waiting by the door when I headed outside.
Just outside the backyard fence, I noticed that most of the blueberry bushes I planted in January have blossomed.
I was in no hurry, so when I reached the area where we have our beehives, I noticed that they were beginning to stir. I sat for a long time in the chair to watch. It was still cold, but the sun felt warm on my back.
When I looked up from where I was sitting, I noticed pink peach blossoms popping out on the ends of the branches.
By this weekend, the tree will be in full bloom. As I sat there, my spirit felt lighter. I could see March at the end of the tunnel.
I like Winter, but it does get tiresome by the time February rolls around. I agree with you on March, except March is often a big tease, the best part if March is April is coming and that brings baseball and golf.
ReplyDeleteHooray for hope, a fragile essential.
ReplyDeleteMarch has well and truly arrived here. It is the third today, and we have rain predicted for tomorrow and the next day. I hope they predictions come true. We are in a green drought at the moment.
Good morning, This reads more like a poem to me and actually had a tear in my eye. We usually get a lot of snow in March, but I can see some green peeking up in our grass, and the sunshine is shining most days. But the gray days always leave me feeling a bit tired and yearning for spring! My hubby and I have been eating more soup this last winter with a nice muffin or cinnamon roll also. It just feels good to have it warm you up from the inside... Yup, all I have to do is grab my walking stick and the dogs do their little spin and yap dance! Enjoy your day dear friend March is here...
ReplyDeleteRoxy
Wow, you have blossoms! We are just grey and blah here. I find March long and humdrum because not much grows and looks good. It can be cold or get quite warm, snow, sleet, rain, fog, ice, you name it. I love your writing and how what you write comes to life
ReplyDeleteI love being out where you can feel the sunshine warm your back. We've not had any days like that yet, not do we have anything blossoming so thanks for sharing yours today. that does give me hope. Sooner or later we'll have those kinds of days in Ohio too.
ReplyDeleteI agree about February. It seemed to last forever! Glad March finally came. Great shot of the blossoms.
ReplyDeleteLisa
Peach blossoms!
ReplyDeleteFebruary seems to last forever, for sure.
Der Rick, I, too, find February the most difficult month to get through. It was true for my 36 years in Minnesota and I find it true here in Missouri. And like you, I also find that a bowl of hot soup satisfies the cockles of my heart! Peace.
ReplyDeleteI'm always happy to welcome March even though we still have cold and snow many times until April. It's been a mild winter this year with ups and down with the temps. Your post is so well written that I felt like I was there with you having that cup of soup! Sometime in April we'll have those same pink blossoms...I'm ready!
ReplyDeleteA moving post that I am glad I read
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed this read. I always enjoy the phrases you use such as: Penetrates to the bone like a bruise!.... AND: I could see March at the end of the tunnel.
ReplyDeleteYou have a way of expressing feelings.
Sherry & jack Here after Sherry today!