We woke up a few days ago and it felt different somehow. The pungent smell of awakening earth, coupled with the sunlight reaching into dusty corners of our home. Our creek is gurgling at a faster pace. Chickadees are changing their tune. The snow is heavy and wet. And just like that, spring is nearly here. With snowdrops peeking their heads up through the snow and leaves, and pussywillows beginning to reveal themselves, it truly feels like we have turned the corner.
Winter boots are traded in for running shoes, which seems optimistic to me, however, it certainly allows for lighter feet to race up and down the driveway. Our country lane is bare dirt freckled with puddles and we are making daily walks to the river. The other day we watched as swans peacefully glided in aimless circles. Suddenly a kayaker rounded the corner and the five swans alighted, flying so close to our heads it seemed we could jump up and touch them. They are far larger than they appear from so far away…their wing span is around seven feet! It is just a fifteen minute walk from our house, and we had taken only one of our dogs on our walk because we could only find one leash, leaving the other three at home. And the entire time we could hear Cocoa howling away for us, upset to be left behind. I felt an inner pressure to hurry home to her and when I mentioned to Huckley and Sunshine it was time to leave, it was apparent Sunshine had a severe low blood sugar that I was very unprepared for. After stopping her insulin pump and giving her the only juice we had, we were still a good hike away from home. She is too big for me to carry, so I was inwardly stressed out about how white her complexion was and how weak and tired she was feeling. Anyhow, I firmly encouraged the two of them to keep up the pace, and the last stretch Huckley ran ahead to the house to grab more juice. Luckily, we made it home in time to replenish her glucose levels without incident. It seems that despite all the years we have lived with Type 1 Diabetes, it is easy to slack a bit and not pack the necessities ~ never again! A regularly carefree walk had turned me into a pile of nerves.
We have been blessed with many bluebird days here in our normally dark mountain valley, and the kids are pulled outdoors for the afternoons, after our lessons have wrapped up. Fairy houses are built with bits and odds found lying under the receding snow, and with boots on, the kids are climbing our old oak tree again. I feel a huge outward exhale at this time of year, like I have been holding my breath for a long time. More than any other winter, I realize how much of a warmer weather person I am becoming. Maybe it is my own aging, maybe it is solo parenting so much in the winter months? But, this nourishing exhale is a relief of sorts because I can finally breathe deeply again, inhaling all the earthy goodness that spring is sure to bring.
This seasonal shift brings me such hope, and I wish you the same.
Such beautiful pictures Jules and I can just imagine how scary that was for you on your walk. You are an amazing Mom, though. Oh, I wish we were feeling seasonal shift here, but it just snowed about 2 feet and is still snowing and only cold in the forecast – but thank goodness we can rest on the knowledge that spring will arrive.