with long, gnarly nails. The snow has been coming in bursts, like last breaths and its rough because you get attached to the sun. To the green peeking out in your backyard, the fields, and forest preserves. I’ve seen Red Winged Blackbird and Robins and am ready for Spring! Eight days and when the temperature has stabilized, Sofia and I will be hitting the Nurseries with my dad. Picking out flowers and vegetables. My dad will have his layout carried in his head and I will be picking things out based on the first color I see and love and work around it. I look forward to having my little garden as a distraction. Cannot wait to see my great grandma’s flower bloom again and again.
The weekend was good but of course never long enough. My husband’s last day at his job is the 31st and then he will I hope take a much deserved break before we go out on our own (again!) Cannot even say we are late bloomers, well we are in a way. It will not be his first rodeo or mine but we are older and wiser and better at our crafts and I am excited and scared.
Spring is change. That is what I love about it (and Fall) transition. I always feel compelled with those seasons whereas with Winter I am moving but somehow a step away from stagnancy.
But again being the Midwest, snow covers the green again. The clouds have swallowed the sun and my fingers are cold and stiff as I type this out.
I’m going in a couple of hours early because a friend from work who was out of bounds and blurred that line, putting me on the spot. Volunteering my time before asking me first and instead of snapping at her, I just said, yes.
And would you believe it is snowing again?
Last minute edition below. Forgive the spluttering. I recorded it on a whim and most whims have a wobbly start. Dave Etter: Frank Temple, Wet Spring, Dark Earth