I never appreciated spring until I moved to the Northeast. (Florida, where I grew up, can be somewhat seasonally monochromatic.) Near the end of my first real winter, I felt starved for color in my surroundings. Everything was a mash of gray and brown, with the occasional whitewash of snow.
Suddenly, there were little flecks of vivid green. My heart nearly burst with happiness! I wasn't the only one either. The birds became a loud, boisterous chorus! People passing by seemed to smile more and it only got more intense as those little green buds burst into brightly colored leaves and highly saturated flowers.
Was it me, or did it seem like winter was extra long this year? It felt like I shoveled more snow, salted more sidewalks, and wore more sweaters than in the past few years. I was sick more and all-around just depleted.
And then...
1 comment:
Andrew
Your description of winter is that of a true artist. It has been a long and harsh winter even here in the UK. I have never felt so cold and sick of the greyness of my surroundings as this past season. I also love hellebores and this morning was distressed to see them looking very sad under a layer of frost and ice. Now that the sun has started to warm the garden their capacity to jump up and look beautiful is inspirational. I need to remind myself I have the same ability to see past the miserable weather and look forward to warmer days just around the corner.
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