Saturday, March 8, 2014

The Blank Space

This winter seems interminable - they say it's the coldest in 20 years.  Everyone in our family has caught the same cold twice in the last four weeks.  No perennials are peeking up through the scattered snow banks that have long overstayed their welcome.   Skunk cabbage and wild iris arose in the swamp a month ago, only to die back in the bitter cold.

I'm in need of warm, moist air and southern winds.  It seems I'm not the only one.  Friends do not speak of plants, spring wildlife, or new gardens.  Most people do not speak of much, it seems, except for comings and goings and pictures of kids playing indoor sports.  People in our relatively friendly city have become resigned to the unrelenting north wind in their face, blowing as it has been for six months. Everyone shuffles about quickly with their heads covered, faces down to the salt, ice, and grime on the sidewalks.

I want to feel the fire.  I want to move.  I want to create motion beyond myself.  That is what I am here to do.

Tonight, another snow storm comes.  I bristle and grab one more blanket, longing for the warm air so long overdue. On Monday morning, we go back to work under three layers of pants and four layers of tops.

Photo by Jennifer Carr



3 comments:

Mark Coleman said...

On the bright side, I did read that the Sunday hunting law was signed this week. That's gotta count for a few degrees, right?

Kirk River Mud said...

Ha! It does. It's hard to believe that it's over. I wrote, and worked, and called, and talked about that for the last three years. A few folks in VA have been at it for twenty.

I'm awaiting some local happenings in the Sunday hunting scene this week before launching into a bunch of planned writing on the topic. Should be fun!

walt said...

It's been a rough one, for sure, and I'm more than ready for a change, but on the bright side maybe the intense cold has temporarily slowed down the northward spread of ticks and the woolly adelgid, and other pests.