ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©
Trying to find the beauty in an endless winter is like looking at your reflection in a mirror and hoping to recapture your youth.. It seems that new life will never surface again. Everything is cold and dead. The green existence of spring seems eternally wrapped in a blanket of white. Somehow we hang on to the hope of a new day when the sun moves closer and embraces those withered limbs and forces life to bud forth again. Spring – will we ever see you again.
When winter’s final grip releases her icy hold on us, it’s such a relief. Our spirits soar, our coats come off, mittens are hidden in the recesses of the closet not to be donned for at least a few months. We breathe in fresh air instead of the stale, musty, dusty stuff that has permeated every inch of our homes. Curtains open, sun bathes each room with warmth and comfort. Windows may be cracked an inch or two simply to wash away the smells of the past duration.
Memories of blooming gardens seep into our minds. Interesting remnants of the long season pop up everywhere – the snake of a hose that never got rolled up in time for the first snow; the remains of withered weeds and overgrowth of un-mowed grass; the Adirondack chairs which had become another plane for snow to build upon; not to mention the mountain of scat beneath the surface.
Ah, spring! It arouses all the senses and sends them into hyperventilation and a serious asthma attack.