Late Winter Joys

Winter is almost two/thirds done. Oddly, I'll be sorry to see this delicious, quiet, time evolve into spring. When I was a child, I experienced such bad spring fever that I could hardly tolerate February. Now, I'm trying to savor every bit of winter. I'm lucky because I live in the country, have a warm house, enough to eat, and don't absolutely have to go anywhere. So this season has become a liberating expanse of low expectations. As my friend Judy says, "I'm high on cancelled plans." Still, with mindfulness as our guide, anyone can appreciate the joys of this season with a similar mindset. No need to strive, beyond staying warm, not falling down, marking the sunrise and sunset, moonrise and moonset. Cuddle your loved ones. Take time to read, write, reflect, and dream. Sit in a sheltered nook wrapped in your winter coat, listening to something inspirational, and enjoy half an hour of winter sun.

I've learned to love the subtle ways sky and earth mark our creep around the sun. The nights are not interminable, just long. More time to doze. The ice on the north-facing porch is melty in the afternoon, though it still freezes hard each night. The crocus tips are peaking out. Chickadees sing spring songs occasionally, surprising me and maybe themselves. The hens are laying more. No need to do anything beyond noticing these things. More time to walk over to a friend's house and talk about what matters, or maybe make some music. Or take a bird walk while the ducks are still wintering on the Rio. I could visit the bald eagles again before they fly off to wherever they go in spring.

No, it's not spring yet, but it's close. Let's enjoy the last of winter. I can even hope we get a cold snap and a heavy, wet snow before the black cottonwood buds swell!