I apologize to you winter. I kept waiting for your return, you were here just a few days ago – ice in the birdbath, citrus tree fatalities, howling north winds and clear night skies but you never returned, so I cut the grass. I felt bad doing it because I know the leaves are there for a reason, protecting the St Augustine and I know there are many small creatures nesting amongst those remnants of autumn but you never showed up to complete your job, the grass is growing in January! My usual meter to anticipate spring is hearts and chocolate… Valentine’s Day, not mid-winter.
I can faintly hear you as you feebly send the easterly winds through the fireplace rattling the fireboard a bit. As I listen, I think maybe you will return in February. I hope so, for you have much work left to do. I will wait for the groundhog to decide.
In the meantime, I cut the green grass and noticed something. It seems to me, when a tree is nearing the end of its life, old fruit trees specifically, I find another tree growing alongside of it, usually an oak tree, a native tree, put there by the wind or the birds. It’s as though Nature knows of the impending death and fills that soon to be available spot. I have many examples of that in my yard, places where fruit trees have come and gone and a sturdy little oak tree is ready to fill its spot. Nature knows all.
January wind I hear you at the backdoor, you are almost gone now…already.