It's been looking like this for days, tormenting me. It doesn't know what it wants to be, or I don't, or I just can't get my slow brain to understand what it's trying to tell me. It's like trying to see through dark water, or tell who the old, dry bones unearthed in garden once belonged to.
Feh.
February is my nemesis. I want to sleep until spring, but I'm really just so tired of endless greys and browns, dull and dark and dead. I want greens and reds and purples. I want warm breezes and the smell of damp earth. I want birdsong and the whispering of wind in leaves and the feel of grass beneath bare feet.
Or, I could settle for this piece telling me what it wants to be...
I so understand. I find it better when there's snow on the ground, because what light there is gets reflected, but I'm more than ready to hibernate at this point. My only consolation is that soon I'll start my first seeds.
ReplyDeleteAn old friend of mine used to refer to February as "Fucking February" (in screamingly disgusted tones).
DeleteBy this point I'm starting to get a raging case of monochromatic malaise... the gains I get from the returning sunlight aren't quite enough to deal with the raging case of NEED GREEN NOW. Usually I survive losing my mind with greenhouse trips (or a visit to The Butterfly Place in Westford), but I can't manage to find an open nursery around here to save my life.
I bought a grocery store gardenia in a desperate bid for green. I may spend unseemly amounts of time stroking it's leaves...
There might also be a reason that my old vanity places in NH were a variation on Dryad. ;)
Soon, it will be spring, and we will get to have growing plant life again.