Obdurate spring

A little Snow was here and there

Disseminated in her Hair --

Since she and I had met and played

Decade had gathered to Decade -- Emily Dickinson

A shiver of snow last night has given way to the melting charms of the morning sun. It is obvious that, no matter the obstacles, Spring will have her way.  Regardless of the frigid fall of February temperatures and the heavy horizon, Spring's blood will pulse. Inexorable green shoots, unyieldng, will protrude from the ice and the earth shall feel her young blush. With one touch of sun, the mulish sap stirs. There is no stopping her now!

Promises

Its February and so I should not be surprised if yesterday's sunny brilliance has become today's bleak frigidity; snowflakes fluttering down to taunt the snowdrops. 
The sea is steel grey with the wind rippling its surface like the ruffled down on winter geese.


But out we are anyway, fitting the last few stones into the re-built garden pond. It is as bright as a silver coin amid slate rocks and moss. Our frozen knuckles are stuffed into pockets while we survey the finished work. The switch is flipped on and clear water gurgles up through the hole in a large granite rock, and then slips chuckling down its icy face.
Quick! Inside for a hot cup of tea!


Promises, promises. But I'm holding you to it, February!

Sun worship

Living on the West Coast, one is reluctant to complain about the weather. Everywhere else in Canada, temperatures are frigid and the central Canadian brush does not dip into the green colour palette until May or June! But even so, the west coast repertoire of rain, from drizzle to the pelting torrents and everything in between, can certainly alter a person's mood.
But when that sun finally appears and the steely skies evaporate to brilliant blue, all is forgiven and forgotten. Today, my face is turning sunward, snowdrops are carpeting the gardens of Lower Caulfield and fresh green buds are swelling in front of my eyes. Thoughts of beaching in the tropics are replaced by an urgency to don gardening gloves, to dig in the soil and plant primula!

At sixty something, I have taken a look at my life and realized, everything is different. My three grown children are developing fascinating lives, have married, are raising children and, inexpliquably, have all left the country, taking my gorgeous grandchildren with them! My spouse has retired. I am not getting any younger, but I am still not without passion!  It has occurred to me that a change of key might brighten up the composition of my life.   I am still singing my song, and even without orchestra, the music plays on.... So here we go! After three ....

Puako Beach, The Big Island of Hawaii