Sometimes, like yesterday, spring and winter walk hand in hand, like lovers. At other times, like today, they wave their arms, shake their fists and fight like siblings.
My walk takes me along mossy footpaths that bear the residue of winter's damp. In the park, the grass has brightened and turned extravert, with all the brashness of early spring. Which season are we in? The sparks of creative fire tell me that spring is here, and it's time to strip away the trappings of winter. And so I tidy, clear papers, and wipe down the window sills. Then I have a 'mossy day', when inspiration is dampened once more. Between the old and the new, that's just how it is.
3 comments:
Your post expresses just how I feel. I have never felt so in touch with the season! I went to the film festival today with an old friend. I was telling her about your book DANCING WITH THE SEASONS> She laughed..you've found someone that thinks like you! she said. Yes ..but way ahead! I must show your book at bookclub next.
Thanks Joan, and yes we certainly do seem to think alike! I'd love you to show my book at your bookclub.
Juliet, your words echo what I feel at the change of the seasons. I feel it here. It is approaching 90 degrees already, humid, sticky, muggy, hard to breathe heat, yet the season is starting to wane. It will be awhile before we drift into fall, but, it is happening. I love your description of winter and spring walking hand in hand and that image will stay with me.
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