Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems. ~Rainer Maria Rilke
The only poem the Earth knows where I live is riddled with words that rhyme with bucket. Mother nature dangled spring in front of us like a raw piece of meat in front of a hungry Rottweiler then snatched it away and laughed in our face.
I’m not feeling very friendly towards mother earth at the moment. But she did offer me an opportunity to catch up on work. If it had been warm and sunny today staying indoors would have been an impossible task indeed. I guess I should be grateful really. Or maybe the older I get the more able I am to recognize opportunities where I’ve usually seen big sticky flypaper obstacles.
It would have been easy, very easy, to stay in my flannels, gone online, and caught up on all the television programs I’ve missed. And I did entertain the idea, I entertained it for a couple of hours this morning by tap dancing and trying my hand at singing opera, but common sense, practicality and good old-fashioned duty and obligation interrupted my performance and forced me to dig out my pile of essays and get the job done.
A decision that was strongly encouraged by the blowing snow swirling outside my window…like a huge obnoxiously neon sign spelling “no excuses” for getting the job done.
Not to say a multitude of heavy sighs on my part didn’t occur thoughout the day.
And you know what? I don’t begrudge the snow today. It trapped me inside so that I wouldn’t resent the work that had to be done.
But hear this snow, you’re still viewed as a “four letter word” in my book. And I may not resent you today, but if you hang around for much longer I’ll have to get all Fukushima on you.