I’m not a big fan of winter. It isn’t a season where a lot of transition happens. Everything sleeps, and I am drowsy, despondent, stagnant.
This winter started out mellow. It wasn’t too cold, so I did my best to find beautiful things, especially as the year turned with a promise of early spring on the horizon.
Unfortunately, my nemesis–the winds from the Fraser Valley in Canada– hit the island in February. This cold system collided with storms. The mellow winter turned . . .
On Tuesday this week, I trudged outside. No one was out driving, so the normal quiet was even more silent.
Found the wonder of winter. The hush of snow. The transformed landscape . . .
Outside, the slow thaw drips and slushes. The forecast doesn’t exactly call for spring again, but there are signs.
I stand near the wetlands
A red-winged blackbird clings to some dead plant
Calling over and over and over again
Not caring anything about winter.
I’ve been doing some hiking lately. This is something I like to do this time of year, especially when I find the lesser known trails at odd times of the day.
A field of ferns.
Looking down at Crow Valley from Turtleback Mountain.
This is the time of year when all the magic happens . . .
The cherry tree blooms,
The tulips open,
and everything is glorious.
My music tonight is the song of Pacific tree frogs in the wetlands near my house. My office window faces the stage.
My sons want to know why frogs advertising their manliness brings me joy. True enough. Silly, really.
“I’m here too!”
Spring also means beautiful clouds, daffodils, blossoming trees . . .
The frogs persistently sing of possibility.
Worthy music, indeed!
A crocus from earlier this month.
Notice all the muddy ground.
The smoke from the wildfires in British Columbia moved into Washington skies this week creating an otherworldly glow.
It’s that blossom filled time of year again.
Dame’s Rocket and Rhododendron
This is the time of year where the sun sits low in the sky and rain falls sometimes ceaselessly.
So much bad news in recent weeks and too many deaths.
It’s easy to fall into the darkness.
Yet, it’s not my nature to do so.
I find light in unusual places.
Moments of sunshine
and comfort when everything else feels chaotic and unsure.
In fact, we’ve been unusually warm and dry in Washington State.
Yes, I miss the rain.
Fortunately, my garden gives me cool whites
and cool blues
I spent last Saturday morning at Lime Kiln State Park on San Juan Island.
It was still early. The crowds hadn’t arrived yet.
I searched for whales, but there were none to be found. I saw some harbor porpoises, but they disappeared before I could get a photo.
The lighthouse looked lovely in the morning light.