Winter's End

Day's end; winter's end

This morning I walked into our sun room and the first thing I saw was two walking iris blooms beginning to unfold. They were fully open about 10 minutes later.

I went out for my morning walk and the birds were busy singing love songs. Crocus leaves that had grown two inches tall before the snow a week ago still stood tall and perfectly green. Tips of daffodil leaves just emerging remained green. 

This was a bitter, cold, snowy, harsh week. 

But today the air was much warmer. The sun shone brightly all day. As I sang to the rising sun my heart expanded, everything lifted.

This evening, most of the snow is gone and the upcoming week promises to be pleasantly warm.

Winter is coming to an end. No matter how bitter it has been, winter always ends.

Winter always ends.

Everything ends.

Today I feel good. Hopeful.

The next few months will be busy, sometimes difficult, as we push our plans up and get ready to move. I don't feel sad. I feel energized -- at this moment at least -- to have finally and positively made that decision. I can focus.

Everything ends.

Winter, however bitter, always ends.

Resist

 A few days ago I walked into the "plant room" with the morning's brew in hand and found this blossom unfolding. I went back 10 minutes later and it had opened to this, it's full glory, shining in the gray, pale light coming through the windows. 

By sundown, the blossom was shriveled and done. The small blooms of the walking iris don't last long, but the plant blooms in early February, when I hunger for color. And more blooms will open.

For one more day I resist despair that winter will not end.

Tips of daffodil leaves, a little yellow from the cold, push their way up, seeking light. Crocus leaves rise a few inches from the soil, like tiny thin fists of resistance. Cold air and gray skies cannot keep them asleep. And I resist the winter light by knowing that bright yellow, vivid purple, and blinding white blossoms will soon appear. 

Winter does not last forever. Its end is coming. 

Stand up in resistance to the cold and gray. Turn your face in the direction of the Sun. Resist that urge to remain curled up beneath the soil. Stand up and...

Blossom.