Winter's last huff

Every March in upstate New York, it seems as though winter has to huff and puff on it's way out.  It can never leave quietly with some grace.  No, it has to huff and puff and blow some tree branches down and howl at the windows.  I've noticed that March seems to be the time we get the most snow.  Mind you, it melts quickly usually, but we get lots of the stuff.

Perhaps that is what is happening here in my body and mind and soul.  A last huff and puff of the worst times in my life.  The winds howl and I hunker down with a warm cup of tea, looking for some comfort and escape.  Ancient childhood cruelties belong to another time.  Although they are rapping at the windows and shaking up the house, perhaps it's just a last stand before the spring arrives.

Pitty Pat's little snores and gentle purrs are here and now.  Sweet Madeline who looks at me with those brown eyes begging me to take her out for a walk is here and now.  (I did take her out for a nice walk this morning)  Earl Grey tea and flannel pajamas are here and now. 

Unfortunately, the memory of the past leaves a deep sadness in me that is very much here and now.  And it leaves a pain in my leg that refuses to quiet down.  I am walking with quite a limp, dragging myself up the steps.   

But spring is coming.  The other day I stopped to watch a waterfall.  It was a great torrent roaring through the gorge on its way back to the great ocean.  Did you know that the water in our cells is made up of the same combination of salt and water in the same ratios?  I learned this in Anatomy and Physiology, which I should be studying right about now.  I doubt that question will be on the test. 

Well, all of this emotion is on its way back to the source.  My tears are salt water, making their way back from where they began. 

And Pitty Pat is demanding some attention.

New Life is preparing to burst forth.