It is dark this morning. I am awake earlier than usual due to an obnoxious cat and a pounding headache. Fortunately, both were easily remedied and I am feeling better now. So is the cat for that matter.
It is raining hard this morning, but it often rains hardest before the sun rises. I am sure there is a reason for that, but I rather like keeping it as a romantic notion over a scientific fact. The area in which I live always has a lot of rain, but this year has been rainier than most. I think I need to qualify that, because over the last couple of years, our seasons have been shifting. Weather has been something predictable in my life. I recall one winter when I rode my bike to work so I passed a bank sign that showed temperature and time and every day it was 41 degrees. Not 40, not 42, but 41. And it was that way for months. No, the sign was not broken as eventually spring arrived and the temperature rose to something more reasonable.
Mt Saint Helens blew in 1980 and my sister who is a few years older than me noticed a shift in the weather after that event. I was 12, so the only thing I noticed was myself. My birthday is in February, and often I would have a week of unseasonably warm weather for a week around my birthday. Again with my life centered around myself, it felt like a birthday gift. It rained this year for the entire month of February.
One of the best ways to record the seasons is not by the calendar, but by how things grow in the yard and garden. It gets me to pay attention to things smaller than myself which is a good thing. Last week, I wandered around my yard with camera in hand searching for signs of spring. I raise (that is a stretch of a word) mason bees and they often emerge the last week of March when the apple trees are blooming. Our winter came late this year and was a bit harsher with days of below freezing temperatures and some snow. Spring seems to be coming later as well with plenty of rain to feed the earth. On my photo journey around my microclimate, I did find signs of spring. Buds were beginning to swell and a few flowers were showing up on my Indian plum and flowering currant. In the week since, they have flowered more dramatically which is lovely to see. The apple tree is still keeping to herself, so the mason bees remain in the fridge for a week or so more.
The rain is a bit of a burden though. I have good rain clothes to keep me dry enough to work in the yard, but if I weed this time of year, I really just get clumps of mud along with the small sprouts. I could certainly do clean up. I like to prune things, but admit I tend to leave piles behind to pick up later. Sometimes much later. I tell myself I am leaving it for the wildlife, but seriously, I am just being lazy about picking it up. In my landscaping job, I have to pick up after myself and it remains my least favorite part of the job. However, it looks really nice when I am done.
It is getting time to plant peas and lettuce and maybe some of the flower seeds I bought. I think the flower seeds my rot in the ground with the rain as heavy as it is. Just because I want it to be planting time, does not mean it actually is planting time. Ah, life lessons in the garden.
The rain is vital. It is also annoying. It refreshes my soul. It makes me stressed when it is hard to see while I am driving in the dark trying to go somewhere I have never been before. It brings life to some and takes life from others. It forces me to be flexible, to be prepared, to make hay when the sun shines, to appreciate seeing the stars or the blue sky. It helps me sleep, to rest, to reflect.
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
Thursday, March 2, 2017
Gray
Written January 8th initially:
Though winter is officially only a few weeks old, it looks so similar from beginning to end, that it seems to always be mid-winter. We had an extended summer and fall stayed warm enough for flowers to bloom into early December. And then it changed, like the flipping of a switch. It is disturbing to see the weather change so severely without warning. I am surprised that plants can survive with such a dramatic turn. One day my shrubs are covered with leaves and the next those leaves hang limply if at all. Like the death of a body, one moment a heartbeat, the next all is still. I know there is a transition from life to death, but we often have some degree of warning.
For the past few days, the winds have been blowing, making the cold temperatures feel even colder. The ground is frozen with patches of ice in places. The trees require flexibility in order to not break. The air is dry and uncomfortable to be in for me as I seem to require a certain amount of moisture in the air for my skin to feel pliable.
Continued March 2:
Winter is our longest season, emotionally at least. With the warm fall, winter did not really begin until the calendar said it should or close enough anyhow. But now we are coming up on our third month of winter and with the occasional snow flurries and frequent rain and constant cold temperatures (mid 30s to low 40s), it gets dreary. With the bile that is coming down from the the Oval Office, there has been an uptick of racial and ethnic violence. A teenage boy was raped with a coat hanger and the offenders were given community service. Every day there are bomb threats at Jewish Community Centers and Synagogues as well as Mosques. A Muslim teen was found hanging in a tree in Seattle. Every day there is a new story of hatred and violence, some perpetrated by thugs, other by immigration officers.
Does winter make things worse or just inhibit our ability to bounce back? Seasonal Affected Disorder is a real thing and particularly prevalent in the Pacific Northwest where the skies can be gray for days at a time. Has there really been an uptick in racially motivated violence or is my awareness of it heightened because it has finally become newsworthy?
A number of my friends as well as myself have expressed feelings of despair of late. Our self esteem has taken a nose dive and we struggle with finding our worth. Is it due to this winter that drags on, at least in our perception, or the heightened awareness of violence in our own communities? I can say for myself, I feel that no amount of phone calling or letter writing or marching will dissuade those who would do violence in the name of white supremacy. I believe we are at war, but haven't realized it yet, nor do we really have the first clue how to fight. Our side is still hoping for diplomacy and the system of government we have trusted to represent us. The system is not without its shortcomings and has certainly failed a number of people over the years, but it gives us hope still that there are intelligent minds at work to solve the problems we face as a country. But I am beginning to think we are all ostriches with our heads in the sand if we think our government will save us from ourselves.
There have been folks that have been offering up suggestions on what we can all do today. It is helpful ideas, though I admit I haven't begun to participate. I believe I must so as to not be bowled over by this despondency that threatens. I must find my footing and fight. It is winter, there is nothing I can do about that.
Though winter is officially only a few weeks old, it looks so similar from beginning to end, that it seems to always be mid-winter. We had an extended summer and fall stayed warm enough for flowers to bloom into early December. And then it changed, like the flipping of a switch. It is disturbing to see the weather change so severely without warning. I am surprised that plants can survive with such a dramatic turn. One day my shrubs are covered with leaves and the next those leaves hang limply if at all. Like the death of a body, one moment a heartbeat, the next all is still. I know there is a transition from life to death, but we often have some degree of warning.
For the past few days, the winds have been blowing, making the cold temperatures feel even colder. The ground is frozen with patches of ice in places. The trees require flexibility in order to not break. The air is dry and uncomfortable to be in for me as I seem to require a certain amount of moisture in the air for my skin to feel pliable.
Continued March 2:
Winter is our longest season, emotionally at least. With the warm fall, winter did not really begin until the calendar said it should or close enough anyhow. But now we are coming up on our third month of winter and with the occasional snow flurries and frequent rain and constant cold temperatures (mid 30s to low 40s), it gets dreary. With the bile that is coming down from the the Oval Office, there has been an uptick of racial and ethnic violence. A teenage boy was raped with a coat hanger and the offenders were given community service. Every day there are bomb threats at Jewish Community Centers and Synagogues as well as Mosques. A Muslim teen was found hanging in a tree in Seattle. Every day there is a new story of hatred and violence, some perpetrated by thugs, other by immigration officers.
Does winter make things worse or just inhibit our ability to bounce back? Seasonal Affected Disorder is a real thing and particularly prevalent in the Pacific Northwest where the skies can be gray for days at a time. Has there really been an uptick in racially motivated violence or is my awareness of it heightened because it has finally become newsworthy?
A number of my friends as well as myself have expressed feelings of despair of late. Our self esteem has taken a nose dive and we struggle with finding our worth. Is it due to this winter that drags on, at least in our perception, or the heightened awareness of violence in our own communities? I can say for myself, I feel that no amount of phone calling or letter writing or marching will dissuade those who would do violence in the name of white supremacy. I believe we are at war, but haven't realized it yet, nor do we really have the first clue how to fight. Our side is still hoping for diplomacy and the system of government we have trusted to represent us. The system is not without its shortcomings and has certainly failed a number of people over the years, but it gives us hope still that there are intelligent minds at work to solve the problems we face as a country. But I am beginning to think we are all ostriches with our heads in the sand if we think our government will save us from ourselves.
There have been folks that have been offering up suggestions on what we can all do today. It is helpful ideas, though I admit I haven't begun to participate. I believe I must so as to not be bowled over by this despondency that threatens. I must find my footing and fight. It is winter, there is nothing I can do about that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)