The days are getting longer, the light is becoming brighter and I can almost feel it feeding my soul. The first hint of warmth in the sun’s rays as the palest of freckles start to kiss the skin on my arms and face. It’s like each inhale is going deeper and deeper and I’m awakening from my winter slumber and stretching out, ready to receive the season of first life with open arms. Spring is coming, and whether these early days are a sneak peek or a Fool’s version, I’m absolutely here for it.
This winter has been long. Bitterly cold, with winds that snap at your cheeks and make them raw. Interminably lengthy when combined with yet another lockdown filled with grim statistics and a sense of weary hopelessness that this actually might.never.end. Every day the same, driven by a relentless routine to just keep going. Evenings stretch into eternity and yet time disappears.
But with each sunny day, there’s hope. A childish delight at a fluffy white cloud in a bright blue sky. Spring bulbs burst their way through the ground bringing flashes of white, green, yellow, orange! The first petals so fragile against the cold mornings and chilly evenings. But still they persist. More colour, more leaves, more joy. Breathing life, into the earth and into me.
“I started to feel that I belonged to a wider family of species, a communion of beings, the matrix of life, from the spiders to the lichen and the cormorants to the coots. I felt born again. Nature picked me up by the scruff of my neck, and I rested in her teeth for a while…” Lucy Jones, Losing Eden.
I’m ready for the next while Mother Nature, you can hold me there for as long as you want…
Chattering Claire 