Lighting fires

It is light now when I rise, a pearly haze of pre-dawn glimmer that lets me see shapes without needing a lamp.  By the time I come down into the garden the day has broken fully, but no sun to be seen, just a blanket of grey filling the sky and the lattice of trees.  It is so wet everywhere, puddles and pools on any surface that will hold them, and drops lining every branch.  Each day we think Spring might start to approach there is another flurry of sleet or snow, another blast of air from the Arctic.

The birds aren’t put off by it, the morning is filled with their song.  And crocuses are pushing up regardless among the scattered brown leaves in the wet lawn.  Was this once the norm?  We have got used to milder winters, and bees buzzing and blooms appearing at the end of February.  If we lived in Canada we would have adjusted to long winters, but here we struggle, longing for the breakthrough of warmth and the rolling back of winter.  It is as if the winter has parked itself in our souls, and we feel as dreary as the grey days.

What is to be done?  Let’s light fires to drive away the grey.  We have a wonderful wood fire newly working this winter that cheers as well as warms.  And there are books to be read, people to be loved, long stripy socks to be worn, indoor projects to be done, all lighting inner fires of joy that will see us through to Spring.