The good, sometimes bad, and the snugly

Don’t you just love these two and three day winters? These are the kind where the temperatures drop one day, you get snow next day , and by day three it’s all melting, for the temperature went right back up through the roof! Meanwhile the birds keep packing and unpacking their wings for a trip they haven’t made yet! Even spring flowers don’t know what the hell is going on anymore. At this rate the groundhog is going to be unemployed this year and soon!

At least it’s nice to know that some disappointments can bring a measure of relief to others. I don’t know about you but I am not keen on winter these days; sure it was a lot of fun when we were younger but now the years have caught up to us it gets harder to manage.

These are the days when my favorite TV program is the weather channel, even before the sports, and that’s on a good day when for a change they get it right! They talk about El Nino and La Nino, but to me it comes down to Me cringe-o when you see all the snow you have to clear off the car/truck!
This week has been a typical example and tonight, guess what, yep! Snow again. Things could be worse I reckon, but at least we are still alive and progressing, which makes us luckier than some other countries I might add. So here is to spring and all that it may bring, meanwhile I’m going to make a cup of tea! ~ Where’s my blankie!

C’ya

YOUR SOUL

When you died,
for several days the very depth of my eyes
was haunted by a dove,
white, restless, easily frightened.
No sooner did I catch a glimpse of it,
than it took wing, fluttered away,
and disappeared into the grayish twilight.
But my heart knew: It's you. Your soul.

And it was good, that sad yet radiant knowledge.
Autumn can be at times like that:
the quiet light, transformed to wisdom,
holds up to earth a sky wide open,
just like a mirror. And you can see the most minute
bud of emotion, quivering in your soul.
All is so clear it hurts:
the sky, the earth
and you yourself, lost in between,
yes, even death.

What you were I know and never shall forget:
A dove. White, easily frightened.

Jurgis Blekaitis

(1917 � 1997) ©

C'ya