The Reinvention of February

 

It’s my intention to reinvent February—

Conjuring up dreams of yellow daffodils on green stems,

A lost lover’s deep kisses,

A new freedom from the observation that 

More light arrives with each passing day.

I’ll have myself a new February!

Without the blood red center,

Without the memories of loss and regret.

I’ll distill and drink every last drop of sunlight from each passing day 

And this new February will be my magical portal to Spring.

Seasons

M and I walk north from Pearl on 13th and make our way to the North Boulder Community Gardens where piles of mulch and bales of straw announce the approach of winter. I notice for the first time a red stone bench with two trees planted in the half-circle. Someone has placed a few wicker chairs with comfortable backs in the half-circle as well, and the little park looks south over the gardens toward the Flatirons. The chair back feels warm from the sun as I settle into it and gaze at the view; I’m grateful for a momentary sense of inner peace. The stone bench has five separate sections with inscriptions. It is a dedication to Thomas Clark, “A Man for All Seasons,” it says. In the center section is carved:

Thomas Clark - A Man for All Seasons
Ecclesiastes 3:1 “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under the heaven.”

I think that Thomas Clark contributed much to the Community Gardens and has been remembered in this way; I could do worse than to be remembered as a "woman for all seasons."  Two sections on either side of this are carved with phrases representing each season, and so we find:

Spring – Joyful Renewal
Summer – Generous Abundance
Fall – Passionate Celebration
Winter – Peaceful Reflection

M and I agree that on this November day we would seem to be somewhere between celebration and reflection. It is a beautiful spot, and I tell him if I go first, he should meet me here in spirit, and I would do the same for him. He agrees to this with mild amusement, but later comments with typical irreverence that it is more likely his spirit would come back in a Terre Haute whorehouse.  Despite getting a pretty good night’s sleep, he is tired today he tells me, but has been able to write again just a little this week.

Knowing as I do how much seasons can affect moods, it's comforting to have these positive phrases set in stone to describe Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter--almost like a meditational theme for each. I’ve always loved climates with clearly defined seasons; they can be relied upon to change just when you’re most ready for a new perspective.

Spring

We’ve had marvelous spring-like weather all weekend. We have a single daffodil in our back yard, and I am most grateful for it. It seems like it’s been a long, cold lonely winter. No, wait. That sounds familiar.

There are purple crocuses in the front yard, too. I know that we are not finished with snowy weather, but it is a pleasure to feel the warm sun and see the early flowers.

At work there is a fundraiser to raise money to fight cancer called Daffodil Days where we all buy bunches of daffodils (and extras to donate to hospital patients), and they are all delivered one day next week. The sight of all those daffodils will soothe my soul, I know it.