The wind is blowing outside and the sky is grey. The previous three mornings we enjoyed coffee outside in the sun, I got some tan on my bare feet, listened to dueling ravens and watched the local cats fight over their territorial rights to our back yard. March is such a transitional month. It is too early to garden, but the trees are getting buds at the tips of their branches. The snow is gone except on the mountains and we would be happy to have some more. The paradoxes of this time of year also fit my state of mind. Raising my anticipation are the undecided temperatures mingled with grey boredom while looking for tangible signs of green. I have always found it incongruous that spring seems to be as much about endings as beginnings. Maybe that is why it is not easy. Yet, change by principle is never comfortable.
I used to get depressed each spring. I also noticed that in the news, obituaries are abundant in spring. According to researchers, this is statistically normal. Maybe spring is about turning things over as much as it is about starting a new cycle. Farmers traditionally turn over the soil each spring in readiness for planting new crops. Birth and death are just the up side and down side of the same material.
|Still too Shy to Get Close, But Hopeful!|
I’m staying inside today except for about 20 minutes guarding the little black stray so that one of the local fat cats doesn’t chase him away from a dish of leftover treats. I also bought several books on Amazon this afternoon. During the past three months, I’ve purchased and read more books than in the previous 20 years. Life in Taos, for years has been about immediate experience and survival, now the urge is to cook a new mental stew and adjust the flavoring. The use of this analogy probably comes from renewed interest in cooking. I’m in the mood to sharpen some old skills and take others out of the closet.
PQ is painting every day except Saturday and Sunday. He has about six paintings finished and started working on another one. It’s interesting to observe his working pattern. Because I worked in retail, I painted mostly nights and weekends, he was a welder so takes weekends off. Interesting isn’t it how these patterns stay with us after there is no longer a reason to keep them. I guess people are creatures of habit and pattern like all other animals.
UPDATE TWO DAYS LATER
We have new snow beginning yesterday. Weather is always changing. Maybe that’s one of the reasons we all like predictability and habit. It helps us feel that when we put one foot in front of the other there will be something under it, but sometimes there isn’t anything under us but our habits. I’m thinking that somehow I’m walking on air in anticipation of the next turnover. It’s that in between space that leaves me blank. Thus, I don’t have much to say.