Today, I read a poem about winter being the best time for learning the landscape within. We haven't had much winter weather, but there has been plenty of winter darkness for self-study and insularity. My own landscape has grown predictably dreary, thank you.
I have longed for sun and color, for fliers (even the no-see-ums that attacked me today while I hunkered in mouldy leaves) and flowers.
Crocus (trite though they may be) are welcome companions for a morning stolen from work. Whether wet and beaten down or dew-dotted and upright, crocus glow from within.
I shall be happy to study the landscape of crocus-light for a change.
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