a gift

Midwinter spring is its own season
Sempiternal though sodden towards sundown,
Suspended in time, between pole and tropic.
. . .
In the dark time of the year. Between melting and freezing
The soul's sap quivers. There is no earth smell
Or smell of living thing. This is the spring time
But not in time's covenant. Now the hedgerow
Is blanched for an hour with transitory blossom
Of snow, a bloom more sudden
Than that of summer, neither budding nor fading,
Not in the scheme of generation.

it felt like spring today. midwinter spring as ts eliot calls it. so poetically and beautifully. it was splendid timing. right after id been complaining about the cold. what a gift. but then i had to go to school via two busses. and this was a wet, wet disaster. and i resented the warmth. i would have rather had the cold than sopping wet monsoon mess.

but when i got out of class tonight - the rain had ceased. and it was just a warm 47 degrees. i walked home. it was a gift. a beautiful gift. i had forgotten what its like to be outside and not want to die. i strolled home. took my time and even had some time to think. it was wonderfully peaceful.

ive been having a lot of really good conversations of late. im learning so much about myself. so much i did not know. tonight with maria was particularly revealing. its good to be in community. its good to have friends like these. im growing and learning and it is good.

much to look forward to.