Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Returning To Reality (and other cruelties)...
Returning to Iowa from balmy southern Mexico was somewhat akin to being smacked in the face with a cold slushball; it's still full-blown winter here and the snow is getting piled so high from our driveway, that we're running out of places to put it. T. S. Eliot began his poem The Waste Land with the famous line April is the cruellest month ... had Eliot lived in Iowa, he would have known that no month holds a candle to February when it comes to cruelty.
cruel is right....welcome home. Spring is coming...a cardinal sang as the sun rose this morning. Gotta be a sign, right?
One more comment. Perhaps March is more cruel than February. By March we have arrived at a state of such great anticipation of Wonderful, Warm Spring (Gardening!) Weather, that we feel terribly deflated if it doesn't arrive... or stay... or if we suffer a "set-back." hmmm?
shady... you know, as you mention it, I see the goldfinches are turning here, too; looks pretty against the snow.Post a Comment