Depending upon where you live, spring may already be making itself known. People in shirtsleeves on warm days, the ecstasy of shedding their winter jackets written all over their faces, and in their movements. Children are out at the playground, and pansies are at the hardware stores.
Elsewhere, winter comes more slowly, with a long, sometimes interrupted thawing, ice, mud, and heavy minor snowfalls. The rivers are running, near flood stage, as the snow leaves, snow is still in 5’ piles at the ends of driveways.
As an artist, I’m giddy about the coming spring buds, the unfurling of bright new leaves, and the first flowers bursting into life as the sun warms their little world. I haven’t lost my “age of wonder” but keep it alive. It nurtures me as much as I nurture it, and I thrill to the songbirds notes, and the luminous light hitting the ground, or the tree trunks. Sap is running, the evening light is longer, and I’ll soon be outside again, with my portable easel, pastels, paper towels, canvases, and my “painting shoes” taking up the back of my car.