Saturday and I’m dilly-dallying the day away.
Frivolously, I might add, and contentedly I must add, for I am alone with she who loves and adores me.
Just the two of us. A beautiful peace. A devoted love.
Looking for Spring
And it’s a gorgeous day. Oh yes, still gray and spring is still reclusive; however, and this is a big however, this is our first feels-like-spring day this year. The entire month has been an unbelievable phenomenal exercise in waiting–sans patience—through the truest depth of winter we’ve had in some time. Still we have snow, but finally, most of it is melting and in that melting, the great relief of knowing spring is on its way.
I peered out the front door today, the sun shone in, and from where I stood on the threshold, I could see the jutted up pointy tips of spring bulbs which lead, of course, to the most beautiful of spring flowers.
Is Spring in the Rain?
Rain, the rains have begun, but it’s always rained this time of year. March is a dreary, wet month, a month between seasons, a month not quite willing to relinquish its grip on winter, a month uncertain of advancing itself forward to fall into the tender tendrils of spring awakening.
Yes, the month will still be chilly, though nothing like the single-digits of February. Too much ice, too much snow, extreme lows embracing the days and nights, February arrived voraciously this year. February, though the shortest number of days in any given month, is still recklessly possessive of its ability to straddle the harshest of months.
And so in spite of the gray day and still cold-if-you-stay-in-it-too long weather today, this day ushers in the first day of being able to sense spring is coming. And in the end, mother nature certainly does know what she’s doing. So many of our spring flowers, flowering shrubs, and flowering trees would not have survived the extreme dips in temperature had it not been for the mountainous snow she provided in advance of the bitter cold.
Roses, azaleas, rhododendrons, daffodils, flowering dogwood, star magnolia, sweet bay magnolia, saucer cup magnolia, would never have survived the vicious single digits for most of the month.
Cats on the Outside of Happiness
The outside garden cats have no appreciation of the inherent beauty this time of year brings. Yes, granted that I am inside where it’s warm and cozy. Yes, granted that I wouldn’t dare of dreaming to step even one dainty paw outside. It’s still quite cold, gray, and wet. But with the attitude of the outside cats (at least Mr. Scruff’s attitude), one might be led to believe we are in the midst of winter. Brrrr!
We are not in the midst of winter. And of course it’s not that bad outside (if you are inside like I am). Mr. Scruff has himself in a huff, droning on and on about how his long fur is a mess (he’s just jealous because I’m a short-haired cat). I can hear him through the window. When he’s on about something, everyone has to know about it. Of course his negativity carries on, marching forward on heels of cowardice, withdrawing acknowledgement of hope, denying reality, ignoring signs of new life, joining the necessary ordinariness of the ups and downs of life.
Why not celebrate the joy when it comes? The lift when the weight is lessened? The lilt and dance that makes this life worth bearing.
The weather today is warmer than it has been, the sky is blue with puffy white clouds, and bulbs are poking up and waking up to the hope of spring coming. What can there possibly be to complain about?
March came in like a lion and is headed out like a lamb, but by golly, we are well on our way to a beautiful spring. Joy in the offering. Love in the ascent. Happy glorious spring to us all!