Landscape gaze – particularly gloomy daze, days still short, though stretching. Snow comes, goes, comes again, goes …
Chilly air, some weeks worse, softening how we feel, explaining our self.
Gazing, barren windswept landscapes of dreary-thought.
Difficult to cheer, challenged when we hear – stages – bleak to joy, weak to less-weak, sturdy to strong.
Someone wrote me – explaining their grief stages in terms I’d not heard explained before, described regrouping and recouping with freshness that can only be described as a sunny side-up egg grinning widely next to crisp toast and hot coffee on a Saturday morning.
We are not our facts – we are our attitude.
Seeds can be planted anytime, fertile ground and nurturing is all we need – and spring sunshine, when it comes, when we can bloom again.
column written/ published from Calgary, AB
morning walk: -11C/12F, day got up before the sun – sky is clear but not yet bright, steady face-chilling north breeze, pant-leg fluttering, Gusta happy to find a suitable depository for her scat after way too much delay, too many re-choosing stops, not because she couldn’t poop but because she wanted a longer walk …
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