Moving past the winter equinox and the ensuing lengthening of daylight’s hours bring with them a subtler grace along with that of the elongated waking time. With the natural increased light can come a lightening of spirit that is a welcome internal forerunner of the earth’s return to Spring. So it is for me, today.
Sleepers, Awake!
On the morning’s southeast drive, through familiar freeway worlds newly cleansed and made somehow forgivably softer by the recent rains, we were no longer suspended in the grey soup of overcast, mist and downpour but immersed instead in a palely pearly, glowing haze lit by the hot orange disk of a flat new sun. Every shadow seemed gentler and sparkled with morning-flitting birds. The quiet of the early time was both more welcoming and more profoundly silent in its way.
I found these same things filled me up, as well. Inwardly smiling on the world like a lesser peaceful sun, I felt a contentment long dormant begin to cradle my being again, singing subtle comfort and bidding me to a meditative state almost forgotten in recent harried weeks. Perhaps my winter is drawing to a close.
Surely the appearance of washing and nourishing rains and the following benison of the returning sunlight makes it easier to turn a kindly eye to the rest of the world. The peeping pairs of seedling leaves in planter and flowerbed renew my sense of living in a sweetly Possible world. The growing days teach me to be more patient–what must be accomplished, somehow, will.
I know as well: if I choose, I can relearn my inward calm, reclaim my lighter self. I can return to that place of familiarity where I fit in, and welcome others too, and start the long, slow, happy climb from winter’s night into the daylight of my springtime soul. Ever so gently and gradually so. Sun or no sun, the inner light can glow again if I tend it thoughtfully and wait.
The familiar comfort of inner contented calm can return . . .
Art-Colored Glasses 
Your artwork is lovely, as always. I love the blue used in the first piece.
Thank you, Dienna! As you know from previous posts, I’m wildly in love with color, and blues are high on the list.
Love this…especially…”the happy climb…….springtime soul” just beautiful!
I’m glad you enjoyed it, Terri. š
Beautiful thoughts, Kathryn…I esp. love these lines: The peeping pairs of seedling leaves in planter and flowerbed renew my sense of living in a sweetly Possible world. The growing days teach me to be more patientāwhat must be accomplished, somehow, will.
I love “possible world.” Through these words, I feel hope. I’m also inspired in knowing that all will somehow be accomplished in the growing days with a bit of patience. You are such a wonderful writer, Kathryn, even though that sounds quite cliche. It’s quite the truth! š xx
Thank you, dear Lauren. I hope things are easing up a little for you and your family. Much to process and to overcome with springtime light; I only hope that the returning of the seasonal light will be all the more welcome and meaningful for all of you this year as a result.
xoxo,
Kathryn
ah, longings for spring… a beautiful post.
It seems there are *always* longings stirring our souls. Nice when they relent and I am able to see how much I already *have* with a little more sensible gratitude.
Up here, with Winter being so mild, it’s hard not to look to Spring, even though there’s still plenty of time for Winter to give us a good broadside. Should that happen, I think the Webster’s people should amend the definition of “buzzkill” to include the phenomenon.
Another beautifully written post, Kathryn. š
Thanks, John! We seem to be continuing our worldwide-weird weather for now: a couple of days ago it was 40-ish and damp and dark here, and today, nearly 80 (no kidding!), and Iām told, back to 40-ish again in a couple of days. If my plants had heads they would no doubt be spinning. Buzzkill, indeed. š
So beautifully phrased…thanks for giving voice to it.
I got a rare sunrise moment alone on the porch yesterday…over in the little maple woods, across the boundry wall, the woodcocks rose skyward in their twisting, whistling aerial mating display…
Ah! I thought.
Spring….
You reminded me of a first-day-of-Spring a few years ago when I went to a great NW nature preserve with a dear friend on a photo safari of our own. It poured buckets, but clearly all of the animals had Spring Fever right from the start, because we could hardly turn around without some bird or beast getting all mating-happy. It was both funny and beautiful, and certainly apropos for the start of the renewal and rebirth season!
A yummy phrase: “palely pearly.”
So glad you enjoyed it. I certainly enjoyed that light!
It’s always a good feeling when you know winter is coming to an end. Back here in Sydney we’re panicking because we know summer is coming to an end but we hardly experienced it. It just didn’t arrive this year.
Quite the change from recent times of overheating and wildfires and drought! How awful for you. I hope maybe you’ll get a nice surprising late burst of beautiful weather before it’s too late for the year! And perhaps a long, lovely autumn . . . š
Kathryn
I am pleased for you that contentment long dormant has returned. I love that sings of spring are now all around.
I just saw today that our flowering pear trees’ blossoms are beginning to pop, so I sincerely hope that the threatened winter-reprise in the next few days won’t be too harsh on their delicate beauty!
I think you have put my thoughts onto paper. Thank you š
Thank you for coming by! I’m going to pop over to your place shortly and catch up with what’s been happening on the home front in *your* garden-world! š
Beautiful thoughts and beautifully crafted and woven words…
So glad you enjoyed them, Tanya!
So much makes me smile in this post but your words “I can choose to relearn my inward calm” spoke directly to me, loudly and clearly. Thanks.
Very sweet of you, Bella. I’m needing to pay a visit to your blog shortly for my usual nourishment, too.
“Sleepers, awake” makes me hear the music of Bach’s Cantata 140, “Wachet auf,” which I was first exposed to almost half a century ago in music appreciation class in college, and which I’ve loved ever since. Listening to it can do a lot for one’s inner calm.
I was, in fact, thinking of ‘Wachet auf’ because I’d just (see Monday’s post about housekeeping via Abstraction) been clearing out some storage and come across our wedding bulletin. The Bach (organ solo version) was among the prelude pieces for our service. So calming, to be sure, and thus a perfect choice for pre-wedding, I think!
Comforting thoughts. It’s been a mild winter, but I’m looking forward to spring. My orchid should bloom in another week or so and seeing the buds makes me so happy.
I’ve never tried orchids, but they are so spectacular in both their individual characters and the astounding variety in the family! I don’t doubt yours will bring a note of cheer and grace to the household as it comes into bloom.
So beautifully written, Kathryn… sometimes winter seems like an enforced hibernation of sorts.. and spring does bring with it renewal of spirits:) Thank you for helping us see the light at the end of the tunnel (we’re a bit further away from our spring) xoxo Smidge
As you know, I take well to hibernation in general, but I also love those things that make me *want* to awaken again at last. Spring is hard to beat for that.
xoxo!
As I read through this piece, several impressions flitted through me. First, a flood of color felt as though it washed over me, then a drenching of peace, serenity. And then awe at the way you string words together to create a work of art. I am going to read this again right now just for the pure pleasure!
You sweetie you. I’m so glad that you can derive some calm and pleasure hereabouts. Your company here and at your place does the same for me. š
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