"It's as if a great bird lives inside the stone of our days and since no sculptor can free it, it has to wait for the elements to wear us down, till it is free to fly." Mark Nepo

Saturday, February 26, 2011

February Winter


I'd forgotten February winter. Some years these late winter days are mild, but often the season saves its biggest bite for the end. This is one of those years. We've had snow and more snow, and now the thermometer on the patio hovers at 20.

In spite of bright blue skies and even brighter sunshine, the air feels like acid. Ground crunches like broken glass underfoot. Exposed flesh reddens, numbs, then burns. Bones ache as layers of body and fabric do little to  keep the cold from burrowing like some determined rodent.

More snow is predicted.

I've accepted the gifts of this dormancy, been grateful for the time of rest and recovery, been intentional about receiving each new day for the abundance of grace it has to offer. As my own inner life reflects with near perfect synchronicity the onward grind of this season of death, even recognizing the new life it reveals in the darkness,  I find myself wondering when the rising of sap will explode into spring green leaf.

I am winter weary. Thinking enough is enough, and it's time to move forward. Thinking I'm ready - as cleansed and healed and rested as I need to be.

Then this morning as I stood outside at sunrise to bask in dawn's pink smile, surrounded by the deepest stillness possible, as though the air were so frozen no sound wave could move, a new awareness sparked. All around I could see that what had seemed stripped before by weeks of rain and wind and snow, was even more bare after days of brittle cold. What had seemed as revealed as it could be, stood more open and thus more ready to bear the fruits of a new season.

And even as winter offers its last burst of cleansing, my front lawn was full of robins yesterday afternoon, the air vibrant with their declarations of territory. The calendar says March is days away. My heart whispers, soon, soon enough. I draw the cold fire deep within, and trust it to burn away the last of my own dead leaves. I trust. I breathe. I abide.

23 comments:

Niki said...

Although my post lacks your eloquence, it is along a similar vein. I think I'll try to take your advice, and just abide.
blessings,
Niki

Wanda said...

I, too, am winter weary. Isn't it amazing how quiet the cold is? Perfect conditions for abiding with the Beloved. Beautiful post. Beautiful you.

Retired English Teacher said...

This was too beautiful for words. Your perfectly articulated thoughts went straight to my heart and comforted my soul.

We too often forget the concept of abiding. It is needed and welcomed by those who need restorative rest.

God Bless.

yaya said...

So beautifully said...unlike me who's been complaining and whining and just saying "I've had it!"...I like your way better.

Pearl said...

You have my sympathies, from bone-cold Minneapolis...

Pearl

Linda Myers said...

I love the quiet cold. And the days are getting longer. In a week or so I'll put my light box away and give thanks that another winter has come and gone.

DJan said...

Beautifully written, expressed from your heart, Deb. I was very moved by your heartfelt post. I truly felt the place you wrote it from, and I too look forward to the change of seasons.

I am guiltily happy to be here in Florida during this cold snap, though. :-)

Desiree said...

Soulful writing from the heart! A real treat to be privy to these beautifully articulated thoughts and musings...thank you!

River said...

Oh, I am so looking forward to winter. Of course here in Australia we don't get the snow and freeze that you get where you are, I don't think I could handle that at all. But I hate the summer heat and can't wait for the temperature to drop a few degrees here.

Wanda..... said...

Beautiful writing, Deb. The loss of a loved one does leave our heart in a cold season, bare and aching for some time. Spring does return though in whispers...little by little and life is warm again.

LauraX said...

Waiting with patience is a never ending practice...or we could turn it around and view it as being with now, the crispness of the air, the clean feeling of newly fallen snow, the gift of this breath. Perhaps both perspectives are necessary to hold us in balance.

Beautiful writing my friend, just beautiful.

Kathryn Grace said...

May warmth and sunshine soon prevail. You are in my thoughts and prayers.

Kathryn Magendie said...

Today my doors are thrown open and there is a gentle rain here and there....so nice to have a breeze coming through that isn't frigid. WInter isn't over, but I can see spring - there are green shoots I saw while walking the cove this morning, and some little wild flowers I found ....

Always something beautiful here to read at your blog, Deb.

Donna said...

I'm right there with you, sister....you just say it so much more eloquently! I love the way you write. It feels like poetry but not so stiff....just beautiful.

As for Spring...I CAN see it s-l-o-w-l-y coming. The robins are singing and the snow is melting...even though it may come back again. It FEELS warmer. I think it can, I think it can....

Carrie Link said...

NEHBM of abiding.

deb colarossi said...

I could read you for pages.

abiding is good. sometimes hard, but good.

And we have been hit with more snow as well. But the light ! It is so often about the light.

peace be with you Deb. your heart is so beautiful.

Amber said...

You and me both. Done with this season!

:)

Bernie said...

Beautifully expressed as usual. How are you really? I think I have been in a sort of stagnant state for a long time. No abiding just sort of numb.

I am hoping that when winter is over, I will find that I can live differently than I am now.

Katie Gates said...

Beautiful!

deborahjbarker said...

Lovely words Deb. It has turned very cold here too, after a milder spell although, as I write, it is 1st March. With my second grandson due to make an appearance later this month - new life is certainly in the wings!

M said...

"the air feels like acid." What an incredible phrase. It is EXACTLY what it feels like and you describe it perfectly. I too look forward to the warmth and renewal of spring.

I love you
Mark

Cat said...

You so eloquently reveal the many facets of emotion triggered by a fullness of winter...it shouldn't be too long now. Sending much warmth and hope for an early spring your way.

Midlife Jobhunter said...

"I draw the cold fire deep within, and trust it to burn away the last of my own dead leaves."

Beautifully written. I hope the spring does provide a clearer resting place for your heart.