Curious Observer

Here in the southern part of the Northeast, because apparently Virginia is part of the South, we've had numerous March snowstorms. It's enough to make someone crazy. I'm already crazy so...I felt quite at home. 

 

I wrote this one mild morning. The birds were loud, the breeze was nice, and mother nature was sending us 8" of snow later that night. It was crazy-making. Trust me.

Writing outside this morning.

The dog searches for new smells.

Smells brought from the darkness of night,

newly emerged from a thawing Earth.

Geese in the distance,

communicating with the truest GPS.

Cardinals,

chickadees,

and blue jays

sing across the yards.

The train moans in the background.

The air is mild - a glimpse between seasons.

A snapshot of balance.

We c-r-e-e-p into the warmth of Spring.

We tip...toe towards a closer sun.

With snow in the forecast I default to my trust.

My trust that Mother Nature knows best.

This is her plan;

her divine creation;

her artistic attitude unfolding.

She withholds the full display of Spring.

I hold her wisdom paramount.

I am a curious observer.

Interested in her dance -

the long stillness of Winter,

with the faint strokes of Spring color.

Solitude - Fellowship.

Barren - Fertile.
Death - Life.
Winter - Spring.

We are all simply curious observers.