The last few days have been pretty cold around here. Even what start out as gray days usually end up with the old Colorado sun coming out. The sun streaming into the living room appears golden and warm, but as i look out at the thermostat on the little greenhouse i can see that is only appearances.
Days like this make me welcome the sun, and as i sit on the couch in a sunny spot i put my face into the sunbeams and let the warmth soak in, melting away thoughts of much else. I revel in this for awhile, and memories of springs gone past return. I remember the day my friend Ann and i let our butterflies go. They had hatched from their cocoons in a large pickle jar in the house. It was great to see them flitter and flutter about and head straight for the large yellow flowers.
Some days are good for reflection, and this is one of them. I find that i can place myself in those magical moments of yesteryear fairly well. The smells of the evergreens, the sound of birds and snowmelt running and dripping down rocks and the nuthatches and sapsuckers tap-tap-tapping away, the feel of the new spring sun on my skin and the still cool breeze in my hair, the sights of new colors emerging from the whites and grays of winter and my friend smiling and laughing in her own reverie.
I look forward to these times, but in the meantime, i have the color palette of my stones to gaze out. The many greens i am so attracted to as well as the other colors reminding me of various associative things in nature.
Today it's the birds which come to mind.The red of the finch' s breast, the flash of surprising yellows and oranges from the tanagers and goldfinches, the bluejay weaving deep green boughs of pine. The crazy stitch of the humingbird with its blurred and buzzing rubies and emeralds pulling it all together with its zipping curiosity of everything.
It may be a cold gray and snowy day outside, but inside the promise of spring is already blossoming in my heart.