February Coldth

Battered weather syndrome

Affects us Montanans this year.

Get hit by minus twenty

and minus twenty six,

followed by a honeymoon period

in the fifties. All sunshine and light.

We revive with new hope

only to be hit once more

by sub-zeroes, wind and snow.

Deja vu all over again

February Warmth

daily haiku

sixty four degrees

have I died and reached heaven

or is it february

Today it reached 64° - a wonderful feeling - I think I may survive the winter! Walking around outdoors on the south side of the house, the sun, in the past few days, revived a few plants such as the little Grape Hyacinths above and a few miniature iris are showing green leaves close to the ground. The hills are almost bare and the driveway turned to mud. Hanging Woman Creek is flowing swiftly and carrying sheets of thin ice down to the beaver dam where they get hung up until liquefying.

As I stood on the bridge I heard a schluffff sound; the sound of ice melting on the bank and falling into the stream. Soon that sound will indicate that carp are back. I hope, like last year, I have the wonder of seeing them mate again. All golden and turning circles for the lady carp.

I wonder if someone will turn gold and spin for me this spring :) One can always hope.

Last Year's Mint

daily haiku

odor of comfort

the smell of mint from my tea

memories of you

Gardening in this arid area is difficult to begin with, but when your well gives you methane water full of salts, that complicates the issue. Over the years I have planted many beautiful annuals and perrenials and lost them to climate or water, and now work with the survivors - daylilies, russian sage, meadow sage and mint.

Today's photo shows dead mint against yesterday's snow. If you crush the leaves between your fingers, the sweet aroma is still there. And so it is with our memories. Death takes the living but the sweetness remains.

A Touch Of Spring

daily haiku

busy tree creeper

works the buffalo bush

while waiting for you

The haiku is written for my good friend Art Elser who is currently in the hospital recovering from a heart attack. Thank God he is progressing well.

Yesterday and today were warm and the house oozed out the latent cold and is now comfortable again. Snow melted and I was able to walk out on the deck with a cup of tea - something I love to do, and have been denied for months of cold and snow. There are still piles of snow especially on the north side of the house, but in other places you can see the ground again. Sure feels good. While I was standing out there a cheeky little bird flew past my head so close that I could feel the air move. Maybe it was thanking me for filling the bird feeder the other day!

Nasty weather

For the last three days we are in the grip of an arctic blast. It was -26' here this morning and is around 3' right now. The best part is the sun is shining and filling the porch with free btu's.

Tonight will be almost as cold, but tomorrow it is supposed to improve. This winter has been a difficult one for me; coping without Peter's good brain, without his company, without the warmth of his hugs and without the warmth of him in the bed near to me has been a cold and frigid experience for my brain too. Roll on spring, I can't wait to get outside again, drive anywhere I want to, when I want to, and stop listening to the chug of the furnace. Speaking of which - has anyone out there noticed that the oil companies report record profits whenever the price of gas goes up due to a supposed short supply? As Shakespeare put it -

"There is something rotten in the State of Denmark"

frigidity

four below at four o’clock
february on the cusp of january
ice crystals hang in still air
snow over ice
bubble-wraps the landscape
cat scratches the furniture
in boredom
deer moved back to brush
along the river bank
juncos desert the feeder
sun descends in silver rays
the house cracks in contraction
I put on bing crosby
who’s crooning with jack
teagarden and eddie condon
with a touch of Satchmo
dance around the living room
to put movement in my static day
cabin fever, anyone?

The Big Melt

daily haiku

late january

sun rises and stays all day

I see earth once more

Three days of sunshine - my body and mind begin to relax. All those grey days seem to leech all the energy out of my soul and I can understand those who suffer from seasonal affective disorder (SAD) The light has changed, how, I can't discern. I just know that it registered a change in my brain at a subtle level and it feels good.

55° today and at last the path to the house thawed. I was able to get to the log pile without worrying about falling and dying in a snow bank. I brought up smaller logs to the back door that I use to start the evening fire and restacked the pile ready for probable snow this weekend.

Before the snow thawed, my emotions thawed and the pain came flooding in again. While I know the grief process pretty well, it doesn't stop the shock and surprise when I enter a new phase; but knowing assures me it will gradually end. With that knowledge comes ambivalence. I don't want to lose the connection to Peter that the pain gives me. However since I don't have the choice I'll take it a day at a time, the way that it comes, and be thankful for all the wonderful memories that cause it.

Winter Storms

daily haiku

freezing rain
the bird feeder
abandoned

The photo of the deer (above) is one of my favorite winter pictures. It is so gentle, so interested and seems to be almost posing for the camera.

A very wintry day today, and strange. It began with freezing rain; got warmer and moved to rain, then later to sleet, snow, and right now, a blustery nothing. The grey of evening has settled in and the village below no longer visible except for two security lamps that cut the gloom with their orange glow, one at the school and the other at the Post Office. Temperatures are supposed to plunge for the foreseeable future and it is easy to feel trapped inside and climb the walls.

Staying in the moment, and the day, is the only survival strategy. Finding things to do that I enjoy, including talking with friends and family. The internet is a godsend, I don't know how the pioneers did without it!

Here is a poem to be published in the next issue of Harp Strings Poetry Journal, that I wrote a few years ago:

cabin fever and the internet

snow
and gray days
twenty below and more
cold cabin walls
suck every ounce
of heat from your body

cat lies under
the baseboard heater
listens to the constant
scream
of bird-fights
at the feeder

e-mails
connect us
to the outside world
are like conversations
with friends
a comfort
in the long hours
of sub-zero days