PROMISE

A friend in Washington
says she's planting flowers.
We face the bitter cold.

Her news quickens us; still
we're one long march from spring.

Comments

[Sharon]

Ah, but there is a dark side. There is always a dark side. I am planting flowers and it is still winter. If one craves real seasons does this satisfy? I miss the drama of seasons in the midwest, thunder & lightning in the summer, a light show, the beauty of autumn as it comes without hesitation, it doesn't meander as seasons do here. Seasons tease me, maybe it will snow, maybe it will be sunny, maybe, always maybe but it never teases about summer thunder, it is not even a hope. There is much beauty here but there is not the heightening of the senses with the coming of spring. I remember when I was a kid, a warm day after all the cold, a gift. Get the bikes, no jackets, nothing to remind of winter even if there is a patch of snow here and there. I remember what I was wearing that day, we rode our bikes for hours, until we were reminded that we weren't quite there and went home. The night I woke up and it had snowed while I was sleeping. Not a mark on the snow, just billions of sparkling diamonds covering everything. All was serene, it was magical. Ice skating on real ice outside. The lilacs in spring, and morning glories. They were everywhere. When your spring comes mine will be waning, my primrose will be dull and something else will take its place. The timing is off here. We get to the threshold but never walk through the door.

[Tom Montag]

Sharon--I have a notion that what a place should be and do is shaped in each of us by our early experience of place, so that - yes - the dramatic turn of seasons is something the place should do for your because of your years in Wisconsin and Illinois. Time in California and elsewhere won't erase that sense of place in you.

Conversely, those raised in California might find Wisconsin's turn of seasons a little too much, like the earthiness of beets, if you've never eaten beets.