“Wine is bottled poetry.” – Robert Louis Stevenson
January has ended in a rain of spoken word poetry as Rufous Hummingbirds soar above the trees and the first cherry blossoms start to bloom on once bare trees. Clusters of snowdrops are bursting forth from manicured rectangles of freshly turned soil or popping up wild among the secret places of the forest. Small bouquets of purple and gold crocuses are also making an appearance, their bright colour a balm for rain weary hearts.
There is still winter decorating to behold in quiet corners on walks throughout our neighbourhood. I recently spied some large, galvanized grey stars with equally large pale blue orbs hanging among the dark limbs of winter-shorn trees in front of a lovely heritage home, an enchanting nod to a season still unfolding.
A recent gorgeous sunset lit up an icy blue sky, spreading across the vastness like a great, dusky pink daisy on a day without a camera. A small notebook waits for me on the desk by the window ready to capture the wonder before it fades away…
February heralds the colour red and the vibrant shade brightens days that still cling to darkness…a month which reminds us of dark red wine, decadent chocolate and the fire of love, perfect precursors to the new season to come. Even the Red-winged Blackbirds have returned to roost among the naked branches of the tall chestnut trees one street over in anticipation of spring, their loud chorus ringing out several times a day!
Winter storms still lash our coast although pale sunlight periodically pierces the gloom and we all rush out to feel a bit of warmth. Today finds me outside, in between raindrops, having left a warm apartment to catch a breath of fresh air before heading to the library. Familiar sights greet me, the man who walks barefoot no matter the weather and now my fellow writers scattered throughout the library working at various tables. As I sit here at my own table, my eyes are drawn to the soft light glowing above the high-rises of my eclectic, well-loved neighbourhood, the sun peeking out from behind dark clouds, ever closer.
This post is dedicated to our beloved relative Ian who passed away this February while in hospice back east, our hearts are full in the knowledge that he is resting in a beautiful spot where we picnicked together in the fall of 2016 near Paris, Ontario. You will never be forgotten…