I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for spring – a nice calm spring, with blue skies and sunshine – warmth, and no wind! I mean really, there you are, all snuggled in with a good (albeit depressing) book, when the wind whips up and nearly takes your roof along with it. Unnerving, I say.
Although, I must admit, I’ve quite taken to the beauty of bare branches. It’s true! I use to believe there was nothing at all to look at in the dead of winter. This year, however, I’ve realized hibernating trees possess a certain grace. They are works of art, really.
It reminds me of being young. People who were positively ancient would point to something positively boring and exclaim, “Look at that; isn’t it amazing?!” Being I was taught manners, I would smile sweetly and nod my head. Age, I was certain, affected the brain.
So congratulations to me – I am now as officially old as the dirt I’ve come to admire.