My husband has gone to work. I have the house to myself, so I open every window to the sunny warm spring day! I work in the yard and garden, wearing skimpy shorts and a bikini top (my typical summer attire), slathered in sunscreen, head covered with a large floppy sun hat that shades my face and neck. I am a sun worshiper through and through. Later in the afternoon, after I have mowed the lawn, I go inside to fill my water bottle and drink it, I feel a teasing, tantalizing breeze. Looking through the window I see branches with small new florescent yellow green spring leaves gently waving in the sunlight. I let my gaze drift around the house; papers rustling on the table, pollen and dust moving through a sun beam, curtain swinging in the bedroom doorway. I realize I am standing in a gentle wind tunnel, with a warm breeze traveling through the whole house. For the first time this year, all the windows are open, and a summer like breeze is cooling the sweat on my skin, and ruffling the fur of a cat sleeping on the window sill. I am in love.
The rain in the night woke me up, muffled pounding on the metal roof, roaring growling pouring rain come to melt the snow. Misty morning, dull grey swirling fog, rain still falling in spits and spurts. Looking out the kitchen window at the wet snow, wet yard, wet tree branches, a lone ray of sunlight breaks through the cloudy shroud and pierces the gloom with startling brightness. A million, zillion hanging rain drops clinging precariously to every available surface are suddenly illuminated with glistening silver blinding sunlight. Just as quickly, the clouds reclaim their reign, obscuring the sun’s valiant attempt. Although all those tiny hanging raindrops not longer gleams like millions of minuscule suns, they still remember their sparkling brilliance, and with sly smiles, stubbornly still glisten in the dull grey morning.
Standing on the porch in the frigid evening air, watching the blinding pale yellow sun slip down below the ridge across the hollow. Bare trees stand like sentinels, witnesses to coming darkness, stark black silhouettes against a dazzling glowing golden disk, slowly silently gliding out of sight behind the horizon. Minutes pass endlessly, my eyes tear either from the cold or from looking into the glaring halo of light disappearing from the pale western sky, mesmerized, hypnotized. The whole world seems to hold its breath, not even the tiniest wisp of air moving, birds quiet, stream muffled, breath caught in my chest as the last visage of shining sunshine disk sinks out of sight. Everything gently exhales as the western sky turns pale pink and orange, tired colors that fade quickly. I come back to myself and realize I am shivering in the cold. Cats in the window with wide round eyes wonder why their human would stay outside when inside has a warm fire, cozy blankets, and snuggle y four footed friends to curl up with. One last glance to the west, sky turning dark blue and purple, stars appearing in the darkening sky, and I go inside to my happy family.
Late afternoon, low yellow sun streaming through the front picture window, warm and cozy in front of the fire, dozing on the sofa, rainbows from the prisms outside swinging on the walls, lounging like the lazy cat I am. Halfway to dreamland, thoughts disassembled, and drifting. Light and shadow playing on the wall. My eyes follow the random patterns. Sunlight reaching through heavy branches of the hemlock trees throws dancing dappled light across the room. I imagine waves on a beach and a summer breeze rattling palm tree fronds. I remember early mornings, waking up in the camping hammock, lake lapping gently, light rippling through green leaves. Through hazy eyes, I watch sunlight and shadow mix and mingle, dusting the room, shifting chiaroscuro, poetry in motion. Love and life playing hide and seek in the afternoon shadows.
It was an unseasonable warm day today: short sleeves, no hats, sunshine, snow melting, sap running. I know this is only a false start to Spring, but I always enjoy the warmth to its fullest! When I get home from work, the jeans come off replaced by a short skirt, and a tank top replaces the long sleeve shirt. I took off my shoes and dug out some flip flops, then found a book and my reading sunglasses. Poured myself a tall glass of ice tea, then went out onto the porch, pulled a rocker forward to the rail to be in the sun, sat down, and Relaxed! Book in hand, glasses propped up my head, ( I didn’t think I was actually going to read the book, too excited), feet on the railing pushing the rocker gently back and forth, head back against the cushion, eyes closed, soaking in the sunlight like a sponge, singing to myself “making vitamin D, do do do”. Every inch of exposed sun warmed skin vibrates with anticipation of real Spring. My private inner imagination movie is playing endless clips of amazing whitewater footage (of course I am the hero raft guide who saves the day) as I listen to the swollen creek roar down the hill. My soul’s battery pack is recharging with this glorious solar energy. Deep breath, taste and smell of wet thawing snow and earth, hear the drip, drip, dripping off the roof, feel the warn air caress my skin and the radiant rays tingle my face, blinding white sunlight dazzling my eyes. Spring is almost here!
Tromping through the woods, snow crunching underfoot, leaving big oval tracks where the snow shoes grip. Sun low on the horizon, golden yellow light pouring between the bare trees enriching all their glorious colors: tan, sand, taupe, fawn, toast, milk chocolate, dark chocolate, camel, caramel, coco, coffee, coffee and cream, rich, glowing, golden brown. They all are dazzling and warm in the yellow sunlight. The warmth is an illusion however, the shadow sides are dark, cold, ranging from whitish gray to black. Of course, I can pick which side to gaze at until the sun slips below the horizon, then the whole woods will sink into frozen winter darkness. But for now I can close my eyes to face into the sun, feel its week radiant heat penetrate the 8 or so sun minutes of space and earth’s long angled atmosphere to warm my face and light up the trees with its golden rays. The sky above is still pale blue, the leafless branches, silhouetted against it. I notice the half moon hanging quietly above it all, watching gracefully over the wintry landscape, waiting for darkness to shine her bright sliver self. Half a moon hiding behind and peeking around the illuminated branches as I walk. Silver moon and golden sun, white snow, glowing trees. Peace.