Daffodowndilly
She wore her yellow sun-bonnet,
She wore her greenest gown;
She turned to the south wind
And curtsied up and down.
She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbour:
“Winter is dead.”~ A.A. Milne
When last we met here, less than a week ago, we were still in the depths of a deep freeze. And I do mean deep. Stuck in the -40 range day after day, we were actually the coldest place on earth one day in the middle of last week. No joke. But all that has changed.
This morning when Gerry and I headed out for church, the temperature on our back deck was +5C/41F! It’s supposed to rain later this afternoon. Yes, rain. The combination of warmer temperatures, wind, and now rain, are doing a work and getting rid of snow. While we’re supposed to have daytime temperatures above freezing all week, it’s still dipping down below zero at night for the foreseeable future. Ice will be an issue.
It’s all part of the process of climbing out of what has come to feel like a never-ending winter. I’m dreaming about my garden (my raised beds still buried under snow), browsing a seed catalog, and making a list of what to order. This morning, over coffee, Gerry and I chatted about plans for the coming growing season. Suddenly, everything looks brighter (the days are noticeably longer). I have renewed energy and my mood feels lighter.
I am reminded, again, about how life is a series of cycles and seasons. The literal dark we have come through is giving way to light as we inch ever closer to spring, the season of rebirth. The liturgical year has us thinking about Lent, which is just around the corner, and pondering which resources and practices we’ll embrace and carry with us through that season.
Everything changes. It’s not always easy, this flux we live with, but sometimes (like now) it’s life-giving and hope-fulfilling. Today, change feels good. It might feel different tomorrow, next week, next month, or next year. In fact, it’s a guarantee that something unexpected will happen to turn things asunder just when we’re getting comfortable with what is.
I look at signs in the natural world to remind myself that nothing lasts forever in light of changing cycles and seasons. It helps when things are tough. And it’s a good reminder for me to hold most things loosely.
P.S. I understand that winter is not over yet—especially here in Saskatchewan. Who knows what lies ahead in the coming months. Allow me this moment of optimism. 😊
