It's here!

Spring at last! In a matter of days, we have gone from the depths of winter (with temperatures ranging as low as -20 degrees celsius with the wind chill) to 15 degrees and sunny today. It feels miraculous.

Even more miraculous are the plants in my garden. When a shovelled the last of an icey pile of snow from a flower bed in front of the house, I found iris leaves poking through the ground beneath it -- growing into the snowbank. Amazing! Needless to say, the discovery spurred me to shovel snow from the bed at the back of the house as well. And, again I was delighted -- this time to find the tender green shoots of daisies breaking the ground. How can plants imagine it's time to poke their heads up when the ground around them is still frozen and they are covered by more than a foot of snow? However they do it, I'm very grateful.

The forecasters are calling for rain tomorrow, but I don't mind. Today, has been a glorious gift!

Winter's End

I am so grateful winter is almost behind us. In the past few days, we had another cold blast but forecasters are predicting warmer temperatures for the weekend and I can hardly wait.

One evening last week it was actually warm enough to go for a run in shorts! It felt wonderful trotting along on dry pavement, no longer needing to monitor the placement of every step or run hunched against frigid winds.

And in the mornings, as I walk through my neighbourhood on my way to work, brilliant red cardinals, orange-breasted robins and cheerful chickadees call out to one another. At the sound, my heart, which has been lying like a frozen lump in my chest for months now, feels noticeably lighter and begins stirring gently. Perhaps, spring will bring hope and joy after all. Wouldn't that be nice?

Long dark days

I find this the hardest time of year. The extreme cold and the long nights make me want to curl up in bed and sleep until spring. But this year I've been trying hard to find reasons to love -- or, at least, to like -- the winter.

For one thing, I like how quiet it is on my street, as neighbours trudge from cars to houses and close their doors behind them. Of course, when there's a major snowstorm all that changes as snowblowers are fired up and people yell greetings to one another between shovels full of snow and ice.

For another thing, when I finally venture out, I am amazed at how really beautiful winterscapes can be. Two days ago, as I was driving along the Ottawa River Parkway, I was struck breathless by the sight of frost coated trees shining in the sunlight against the steel grey sky.

I like running in the winter too -- at least, when it's not too cold. Snow covered streets and sidewalks are so much softer than concrete, and therefore easier on the legs. And stretching on our sundrenched front porch after a 7 or 8 kilometre run feels positively luxurious.

It's also easier to arrange times to get together with friends this time of year, when work and school and weather keep them closer to home and the long, dark evenings sitting by a roaring fire evoke thoughtful discussions of life, the universe and everything.

So, here's to winter, and its many gifts. Perhaps, I'll survive it after all...

Merry News

I've happy news to share during this holiday season. Our darling "pud" seems to have found another life somewhere. After more than a month of extra special care, she is purring, playing, eating, and putting on weight, and her test results are all in the normal range. Needless to say we're thrilled, relieved, and very hopeful the hole we dug in the yard "just in case" won't be put to use this winter.

The pud is elderly now so perhaps this latest reprieve won't be a long one but we are grateful we will have her with us for at least one more Christmas.

Darling "Pud"

It's been a tough week. My oldest cat, who we lovingly refer to as "the Pud", has been very ill. In fact, it may be that she's not going to make it, though the various medications and subcutaneous fluids we've been giving her daily seem to have made her feel much better. We continue to hope for a miracle -- though our vet cautions against too much optimism. The Pud is, after all, quite an old cat.

The gift of this experience is that it has reminded me once more of the importance of enjoying the moment -- the moment when the Pud is curled in my lap contently purring, or laying on the couch playing with her tail. I may not have many more days with my little friend, so I don't want my anxiety and fear to prevent me from giving her all the love and attention she deserves.