It's not having what you want
It's wanting what you've got
- Sheryl Crow, rock and roll goddess
Sometimes when you least expect it, something wonderful happens. Before the dry winds gusted on Saturday, sparking fires and sirens. and the clouds layered the sky on Sunday, the workweek ended with a canopy of sapphire blue and an afternoon as warm as spring.
I rushed home from work on Friday, sped through physical therapy, stood impatiently in line during my errands, and then ran outside into the garden and stopped. And just stood, breathing deeply, my face turned towards the sun.
I am tired of winter, exhausted of a palette of grey and brown, of layers of clothes and blankets. I need warmth and sunlight like a fish needs water. But in my fatigue, I have accepted the wisdom of winter, of rest and growth. The plants I tucked into the garden in October will soon shed their soil blankets, slipping small green leaves into the cool air, their roots fuller, branches longer. I slide into a patio chair, my shoulders drooping, and enjoy the warmth. If only for a moment.
The columbine are slowly wakening. These will boast purple flowers by spring.