I would like to think I’m waiting patiently for spring to arrive. However, if one was to go strictly by the definition of patience, that would be a patently false statement.
Patience, according to Dictionary.com is an ability or willingness to suppress restlessness or annoyance when confronted with delay.
Those who know me well, are aware of the my blog hopping habits. I am just slightly addicted to the blogosphere, only a
whole lot little, really! I follow so numerous an amount of blogs, at times I find it very hard to keep up. There is such an amazing variety of them, so many topics. Some of my favorites of course are writing or writer’s blogs, poetry, art blogs, photography, trucking. There are many others I watch closely too, book reviews, news, personal journals, industry specific (many different industries)… Basically if you can dream it up, there’s a blog being written about the idea, theory or activity.
Today though, I got a simple, much needed, taste of spring. Kathryn Dawson Photography, is one of my regular stops. I absolutely love her black and white photography. Often capturing a morning mist or fog encompassing a stand of barren, or winter dormant trees. She captures scenery with such an amazing eye for it’s beauty and a fabulous talent. Her post, Day 51: Spring Colours, had some great photos of the “taste of spring” she’s having. It wasn’t all that many photos, just a few trees, tiny droplets of rain, languidly dripping off the limbs. The very beginnings of leafs sprouting, slowly unwrapping themselves, almost like a birth in progress. It was exactly the medicine I was needing after the last week, locked in the Eastern and Midwestern storms.
At times, I feel my bones are chilled to the marrow this year. I know, I’ve become a bit of a cold weather wimp at times. I have been pretty lucky this year, and missed most of the storms. I shouldn’t be complaining at all. I was in the West when the Northern Midwest experienced the worst of getting hammered by father winter. I went to the east coast, a week after the worst of their terrible storms. This winter has been easy on me, even if it’s been brutal on many others.
Yet, admittedly so, I am ready for this brutal season to be over.