The number of degrees it is outside at this very moment.
Bitter, frigid, ridiculously cold.
The windows have a layer of frost on them, on the inside of the house, that the children have enjoyed drawing pictures on.
The bitter wind shimmies its way into the house, squeezing under the doorways and sliding through the window cracks determined to nip our fingers and toes with its frozen breath. It plays about our head, mocking us and our measley sweaters, knowing that it can even blow through the holes of knit.
The bird tree has been plucked bare of its nourishment and needs to be restocked-but I can't bear the thought of opening the door and stepping outside!
The laundry needs to be done-but I can't fathom heading to the cold garage to put some clothing in a wash cycle.
I cranked the heat up in the basement to 80 degrees...but it still hasn't turned on, an hour later.
Hope. Trust. Perseverence. Patience.
Spring will come, and with it the sun. With it, warmth. Only a little while longer....I keep trying to convince myself. To no avail.
A wonderful diversion keeps my mind from glazing over. Three Narcissus bulbs stretching heavenward, a lovely shade of green-reminscent of days long ago.
Yes-while the snow falls outside, and the bitterwinds howl us to sleep at night and hole us within our wallpapered cells during light-I will think about the green that promises to come with spring.
I will think about the magnificently colored coats these lovely, dignified green ladies will don in a day soon to come. I wonder if they should be sunny yellow or a pure, clean, fresh white?? Time will tell...