I'm sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, with my computer on the coffee table, listening to Seth Martin & the Menders and smelling the delectable wafting scent of the double chocolate layer cake that I'm baking for two of my co-workers' birthdays, which happen to be only a day apart. I may have to exercise some particularly deliberate self-control to keep from sampling this cake before tomorrow . . .
I don't know about the rest of the country, but Missoula has had a particularly grey and chilly spring. I know that warm weather will come, but I am ready for it NOW. To be perfectly honest, I don't mind the chilly weather so much as the grey. It is sunshine that I am craving, so when I woke up this morning to a clear blue sky and dazzling sunshine, I was thrilled. Of course, by mid-afternoon the clouds had blown back in, along with some whirling snow flakes, making my bike ride home rather brisk, but the sun did have a final say this evening, and argued quite convincingly for the beauty of both snow/rain (look close; you can see the precipitation!) and sunshine:
Two weeks ago we woke up to this:
One week ago we hiked on the north side of Mt. Jumbo, looking for wildflowers. We found numerous patches of snow:
And--success! Buttercups! Of course, buttercups usually arrive in March, and by April there should be yellowbells and bluebells and blue-eyed Marys . . . but this year, thus far, we are content with these bright little harbingers of spring.
This past Saturday, we got wind and rain and sun all mixed together, making for a wild and beautiful wedding ceremony for my friends Ann and Nathan. I have no pictures of the ceremony, but here's the nearby sky and landscape just a few minutes before the wedding:
And then another glorious mix of rain and wind and sunshine and snow this evening:
I'm so grateful for these moments of sunshine--looking at my pictures, I realize they have been present this spring, but I am looking forward to full days of sunshine. Yet these moments when the sun radiates through, in long golden shafts of light between earth and clouds, bring me hope and remind me of the beauty in all types of weather on all types of days.
Before the wedding last Saturday, I spent the morning with a group of volunteers, clipping the seed pods off invasive species in a local natural area. It was overcast and grey, and had I been home I would have been lamenting yet another dark day, but being outside, smelling the freshness of the earth and the creek and hearing the singing of dozens of birds (and realizing, once again, that I have a long ways to go along the path of bird identification)--I was just so very content to be outside and part of all that life and springtime energy. Note to self: spend more time outside on grey days!
Since this is a bit of a rambly post, I'm also going to mention something interesting I've noticed lately in my yoga practice. In just the past week or so, I've found myself processing noisy thoughts and strong feelings during yoga. Whatever I might be worrying about at the moment becomes more present and persistent when I begin my yoga poses, and this forces me to notice that worry, to really look at it, and then, as I breathe in and out, go from forward bends to bridge to upward dog, to work through it. And, no matter what the issue, whether work or friends or politics, I come to a more peaceful place by the time I begin my meditation. Perhaps it's not a place of complete peacefulness, but I always feel as though I've reached some sort of resolution, an inner quiet space. Inhale. Pause. Exhale.
Six days till Facebook!
I don't know about the rest of the country, but Missoula has had a particularly grey and chilly spring. I know that warm weather will come, but I am ready for it NOW. To be perfectly honest, I don't mind the chilly weather so much as the grey. It is sunshine that I am craving, so when I woke up this morning to a clear blue sky and dazzling sunshine, I was thrilled. Of course, by mid-afternoon the clouds had blown back in, along with some whirling snow flakes, making my bike ride home rather brisk, but the sun did have a final say this evening, and argued quite convincingly for the beauty of both snow/rain (look close; you can see the precipitation!) and sunshine:
Two weeks ago we woke up to this:
One week ago we hiked on the north side of Mt. Jumbo, looking for wildflowers. We found numerous patches of snow:
And--success! Buttercups! Of course, buttercups usually arrive in March, and by April there should be yellowbells and bluebells and blue-eyed Marys . . . but this year, thus far, we are content with these bright little harbingers of spring.
This past Saturday, we got wind and rain and sun all mixed together, making for a wild and beautiful wedding ceremony for my friends Ann and Nathan. I have no pictures of the ceremony, but here's the nearby sky and landscape just a few minutes before the wedding:
And then another glorious mix of rain and wind and sunshine and snow this evening:
I'm so grateful for these moments of sunshine--looking at my pictures, I realize they have been present this spring, but I am looking forward to full days of sunshine. Yet these moments when the sun radiates through, in long golden shafts of light between earth and clouds, bring me hope and remind me of the beauty in all types of weather on all types of days.
Before the wedding last Saturday, I spent the morning with a group of volunteers, clipping the seed pods off invasive species in a local natural area. It was overcast and grey, and had I been home I would have been lamenting yet another dark day, but being outside, smelling the freshness of the earth and the creek and hearing the singing of dozens of birds (and realizing, once again, that I have a long ways to go along the path of bird identification)--I was just so very content to be outside and part of all that life and springtime energy. Note to self: spend more time outside on grey days!
Since this is a bit of a rambly post, I'm also going to mention something interesting I've noticed lately in my yoga practice. In just the past week or so, I've found myself processing noisy thoughts and strong feelings during yoga. Whatever I might be worrying about at the moment becomes more present and persistent when I begin my yoga poses, and this forces me to notice that worry, to really look at it, and then, as I breathe in and out, go from forward bends to bridge to upward dog, to work through it. And, no matter what the issue, whether work or friends or politics, I come to a more peaceful place by the time I begin my meditation. Perhaps it's not a place of complete peacefulness, but I always feel as though I've reached some sort of resolution, an inner quiet space. Inhale. Pause. Exhale.
Six days till Facebook!
I've found that on sunny days, I'm actually inspired to run. And not only am I inspired, I've been doing it. Is there a point where the incredibly painful stuff stops? And then I come home and do the cool-down yoga. It's delightful.
ReplyDeleteOh. And don't you mean "Six days until Easter?" :)
ReplyDeleteYay, running! Good for you, sister! And I do like the cool-down yoga (do you do the poses from Yoga for Your Life?). Give yourself a couple three weeks--the pain should diminish by then. :)
ReplyDeleteThis spring has been grey and cool in this part of the country too -- it's hard to believe that we have only one more week of classes before finals! This year my dwarf irisis may actually take until late May to bloom as cool as it has been. I have seen some nice clumps of daffodils blooming around town already and all the precipitation --whether rain or snow -- has greened up the grass very nicely. Getting outside does help! Love you~
ReplyDelete