Old Winter has a mind of his own, and his mind had been hardened by centuries of moving to face different directions and turning the weather most poignantly... and he'd decided on an impromptu long visit to the South.... just to irritate us.
And thus, this is the first year since we've been living here in the 'south' (if you can call it south) when ices, high winds and very cold weather have been our daily bread for the past two weeks in the mid of March, when the old redbud trees and callery pears should be gracing the land with lovely blooms already... As it is, all my beautiful houseplants, including my beloved bougainvillea and the geraniums have been irremediably damaged by frost and ices. I am very disenchanted and so much more. So I am channeling the lovely spirit of Ann of Green Gables who lives somewhere amidst the brambles of my old soul in an effort to find some positivism... Only problem is, I cannot find her, and lately it seems that I'm walking backwards and for more that I try to find the light, I keep losing vision and can only wrap my old soul in shadows... it's OK, I'm used to this. It's what I am. So I will say no more.
Into the cold earth of this wood on which the sun seldom shines I'm putting my brightest hopes... dreaming with all those clusters of gems beyond beauty on bouquets of white flowers of the privet trees, the songs of the birds, which on warm days are seen there in abundance and you can hear their songs and animal calls coming from unknown places within there, making you believe that you have been transported to some sorts of magical jungle where Nature's peace flows into you as sunshine flows into trees.
Keep close to Nature, heart... and break clear away.