I am in need of some color beyond the white snow and blue sky and this image gives me a bit of that…plus the memory of a spring garden. I know under the piles of snow plants are stirring, but blossoms feel far away. My zinnia seeds have sprouted and are bravely reaching for the sun here in my studio. Little mason jars of spring. They are a bit of cheerful company for me each time I come in. When we have winters such as this it makes it feel like time is standing still. My calendar tells me this weekend March begins, but it feels as if nothing is moving forward at all. Which means it will all of a sudden be mid March and I will wonder how that happened. This afternoon I have roof ice removal to tackle, which I am not looking forward to, but needs to be done. It will not involve me up on a ladder so I will have to get creative about it as I have no desire to take a tumble. But the sun is only melting enough to allow more ice to form an ice dam on the edge of the roof, so faulty human intervention must be attempted. For the moment I am going to enjoy my studio time.
My daughter said last night that she’d gotten a text from a friend in Idaho that her mother had seen a mention of me in a magazine. Surprise! I had gotten an honorable mention in the Yankee Magazine 2014 Photo Contest for this image. The fact that I heard about it via friends in Idaho just goes to show how social media has taken hold. Danielle grew up in NH so I am not surprised she is a Yankee subscriber, and has taken this bit of New England to her new home. She says Idaho has made her 10 years younger, being away from the hustle and bustle of the east coast. They run a restaurant up in the northern part of the state not too far from Canada. It was a big decision to move, Idaho is quite a ways away, but they have settled into the differences and embraced the area. Someday we hope to get out for a visit, they were back east for a family graduation party last year and we got to see them. It made me think how hard it must have been to see people leave for the new country, or the west or wherever they were pulling up stakes to head off to. To wave them off, and then hope for a letter now and then, for news of their new lives, and the anguish of maybe never hearing from them again, much less seeing them. Photography, phones, social media, rapid transportation systems have all allowed us the opportunity to not lose touch unless we wish to.
Last week there was one day when close to a dozen mourning doves came to the backyard, the first I had seen since the fall.. Most sat atop the tallest trees in the morning sun, which left them exposed to the cold wind in trade-off. This one found a sheltered spot amongst the hemlocks where the sun could do its work, but the wind could not get in. For the better part of the morning while the sun crept higher this dove stayed put, soaking up what was offered before taking flight with the rest to locales unknown to me.