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| Freeze, thaw, repeat |
A friend of mine sends me interesting collections, and this one of frozen scenes that generate natural beauty is filled with icy creations. This beautiful "hummingbird" enchanted me, and I had to share it with you. It only has one wing, but otherwise, it seems perfect, don't you think?
It's the first day of spring 2022, past the last full moon of winter, called the "worm moon" as it's the time when the sap in the trees begins to flow, and little worms come out to feast.
The Old Farmer's Almanac says that the name refers to beetle larvae that would come out of winter hideouts as spring arrived. Northern Native American tribes, however, lived among forests without native earthworms due to glaciers having wiped out the species, according to NASA. Some of these groups instead referred to the moon as the crow moon, as a nod to the birds whose cawing would signal the end of winter. (CNN)
I think I prefer the worm moon name, even if it's not exactly accurate. But one thing I do know it's sure getting to be spring around here. Yesterday I thought Melanie and I would be walking in a downpour, but instead the sun came out, shining brightly, lighting up the sky (and my mood) and reflected in all the puddles that are everywhere. Yes, it did rain all night long, but we were blessed with a fine day.
And I see that Congress has decided that we should remain on Daylight Saving Time permanently. Frankly, I much prefer standard time, but it sure would be nice not to have that silly changing of the clocks twice a year. It has never made sense to me to figuratively snip off a piece of blanket and sew it to the other end. Makes absolutely no difference, except in disrupting the sleep cycles of so many of us.
Today it looks like the sun will shine again, although it's early in the morning. After the time change, I wake up in the dark again and as the days lengthen, I'll have as much sunshine as I wish. If only the sun didn't set in the middle of the night (for me) in summer. Around here, it is long after 9:00pm when the light leaves the sky, and I can hardly wait for the shortening of the days to begin again. I know this makes me an oddball, as most people really dislike the dark days of winter, but I would take them over the endless daylight in summer. Fortunately, our seasons are only three months long and the days and years pass quickly when you get to be my age. Every day is a precious gift, and I'll enjoy them, rain or shine.
I am still working my way through the physics book, which most of the time I am enjoying very much. Did you know that quantum mechanics is responsible for the invention of the MRI device? And I am still trying to come to grips with the concept that things can indeed exist in two places at once! I've learned about superpositioning and entanglement, which I won't even try to explain, but if you do have any interest in knowing more about quantum physics, I highly recommend the book. I've linked it in my previous post, but today I need to move on. Nothing is static, including my mental processes.
Every day lately when I wake up, I take a look at the headlines to see what is happening in the world today. Of course, much of it is about Russia's unprovoked war on Ukraine, and the suffering of the people there. So once I've read them, I can get on with my own life. How fortunate I am not to be in a war zone, with bombs falling all around me. Not a day has gone by since it started that I haven't been moved to tears by the news, so I've become aware of my need to take care of my own mental health. It helps no one to allow myself to be dragged down into sadness and despair. Therefore, I watch for a short while and then turn away to more uplifting pursuits.
I am still doing yoga three times a week on Zoom, and now I'm so accustomed to it that I wonder what it will be like to go back to the studio. Our state has lifted its indoor mask requirements, and now it's possible to attend classes in person. Masks are optional everywhere, but I find that at least half of the people in grocery stores and other crowded places are still wearing them. I'm one of them, and nobody seems to think that's unusual, which I hope continues. We are still required to wear them on the bus. Ridership is still very much down from pre-pandemic days. Most elderly people are masked in public places, not just me.
But let's take a quick look at what's ahead of us during the coming months of spring. Starting today in my part of the world, green shoots are emerging from the trees, on the ground, and everywhere around me the feeling of possibility of new adventures abound. Winter is behind us for the time being, and new life is evident everywhere. The birds are singing, the clouds part and the sunshine warms my face as I walk.
When all the world appears to be in a tumult, and nature itself is feeling the assault of climate change, the seasons retain their essential rhythm. Yes, fall gives us a premonition of winter, but then, winter, will be forced to relent, once again, to the new beginnings of soft greens, longer light, and the sweet air of spring. —Madeleine M. Kunin
It's time for me to finish up this post, so that I can be ready to leave a little after 7:00am when John will pick me up for our usual Sunday breakfast in Fairhaven. Before that happens, I need to do my morning exercises and meditation practice. I've got an hour to get it all done, and if I finish now, I'll make it.
But before I go, I must take a few moments to bask in gratitude for all the wonderful digital family and friends who join me here. My dear partner still sleeps quietly next to me, and the day beckons, but you, dear friends, are never forgotten in my daily prayers. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things.
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