“It seems my mood is following the rhythm of the season, dark with welcome rays of sunshine. I don’t know that I could leave the South, I am too accustomed to the milder weather and its positive effect upon my mood. There exist a paradox, for while I love the silence, the stillness, and the reveal of winter, I fear the direction of my mood when the sun hides behind the clouds for too long. My comforting memories become puddles of tears and my reflection becomes a deeper voyage within, too deep. I expect the sun to be out tomorrow and perhaps I will spend an hour or so cleaning up in my garden, preparing for spring.”
Speaking of the garden, I have come to a more comfortable place concerning this place that I spend so much effort on. Instead of goals, goals that are lofty and unreachable most times, I have begun to just set a “timer” – one hour a day, when weather permits, in the garden – no clear direction, just sunshine, exercise and nature. I have found this takes away all of the stress of constant goals that are difficult to achieve and puts focus on the journey – the pure enjoyment and benefit of just being in a garden – it is a mind, body, and soul kind of experience and putting pressure on the outcome can void all of the benefit and sometimes replace it with a negative feeling of defeat…I vow to be an underachieving gardener…no frustration, just simple joy.
I know spring is far away for our northern friends (and for me, 2 of my family members) but here, in the Deep South, it is very near. The buds on my plum trees are swollen and I have noticed a new assortment of birds, a bluer sky, and its promise stirring in the wind. I heard the songbirds this morning outside of my bedroom window – they are back from their winter journey – some passing through, some staying.
Spring officially arrives on March 20 following the Full Worm Moon on the 5th. When the earthworms start wiggling to the top, the robins will come out of the woods, and spring will be here. For now, I will enjoy a few more camellias to cut for my kitchen and some lingering citrus as I say goodbye to the winter birds sitting on the wires and anxiously wait to follow the Southern sun.
“Stay close to anything that makes you glad you are alive.”