It is ironic that a few weeks ago I was convinced that winter had completely bypassed our little corner of the world. As I chirped about budding branches and peeking bulbs, winter decided I was being altogether too smug. This week we got walloped. Trapped indoors for several days in a world of white everything, my thoughts turned to color.
Oh boy, it has been a while since I last visited this page. Nothing like experiencing a total eclipse from a centuries old graveyard to put a pause on the mundane activities of a sometime blogger.
So it’s a new year and it seems I am sprouting new leaves…at least a little bit of greenery around the edges. Winter has been a no-show in Seattle this year. Mid January and my roses are budding up and also sprouting new leaves.
While the world seems more chaotic and dangerous with every passing day and we are drowned by the frantic multitude of voices proclaiming the end of decency, I look to my roses and their new shoots. There is much to trust in these little plant creatures. They are not troubled. They endure and continue in their self-expression with a reassuring constancy.
We humans are a very mixed up lot. So I look to my roses and the coming blooms.