Winter deepens here in the North. I hear of flu season and decide on a large bowl of soup for lunch. Yet the light is different and I don’t ever reach the end of my amazement in January, as I can literally feel the healing aspects of longer days. We may have snow in April, and it may not warm up for summer here until July; but it is the light that is true and strong. And as sure as I am writing here, on or around March 21, I’ll hear the red-wings again. I’ll see a robin in the front yard, and more voices will steadily join the choir.
from the hardest years new life grew
The image is from http://www.reusableart.com.