Time Marches On
We believe
and hope
to know
and hope
to leave
more than tracks
in the snow
I'm losing track of time. March is here, where did February go? It's the shortest month of the year, but it always feels like the longest, it's all a blur these days.
My word of the month for February was Foundation. February is my time for laying groundwork - planning projects, writing drafts, thinking about spring gardens...
This February was Freezing, with a weekly parade of storms. That puts me in a state of apprehension, but we got away easy, keeping power and dodging the worst floods and winds. All the snow, rain, and ice made it treacherous underfoot though, cutting into my walking time.
To be truthful, I didn't accomplish as much as I'd hoped in these first two months of 2022, but I'll add one more word for February before it's too late - F is for Forgiveness.
It's okay to feel overwhelmed, at times. I always felt lucky and grateful to be born in the late 50's, we really thought we were going to get away easy, didn't we? And then climate change, and then our own pandemic, and now...our own war? But I've been thinking about family that came before me, and what they lived through in their lifetimes. I'm reminded that most people survive and even thrive through times of adversity, and all things considered we are still more fortunate here than in many other parts of the world.
So we begin March with uncertainty, and even though the signs of spring are sporadic, I always think of this as the homestretch of winter. I may not be quite ready to flourish, but I will try not to languish. If nothing more, March will be my time to get moving, make headway, make tracks...