T.S. Eliot, a wonderful poet and a great influence on 20th century western culture wrote a poem called The Burial of the Dead. The poem begins:
"April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain..."
In this instance, Eliot was a dumbass. February is totally the cruellest month. Dumbass.
This one has been remarkably hard. Salida lost a good friend. And the winter wind blew and blew.
Saturday brought us a new month. Yesterday I looked up and saw that the Walmart bag wrapped around a branch high in my neighbor's maple tree was hanging slack. For at least a little while the wind rested.
Welcome March, month of the vernal equinox. Must make red sand pilgrimage soon.