I was almost awake this morning when I heard the power go out. That quick “click” and then the decrescendo as the background whir of modern living comes to a halt. I burrowed deeper into bed and dozed through the wind whipping the world outside awhile longer. Eventually I gave in and started the day by candlelight. The power was restored after a couple hours, about the same time the sun came up.
A few hours later, I was walking up the driveway and noticed a halo of silver catkins on one of the willows. Only those near the tips of each branch have emerged. On Sunday morning it was another omen of the season: Osoberry, always the first bright green leaves to appear. Somehow I had missed those first leaves and it is already putting out the earliest blossoms.
Spring marches nearer. And we are still deep in winter.
The steady progress of time and light are hopeful. And that onward march brings up my anxiety for all there is to do in that season and how I will get it done and how unready I feel just now.
Today, I just want to burrow deeper under the covers of winter, to doze a bit longer here in the season of unapologetic rest.
Perhaps I can learn to rest unapologetically in spring, too.