Spring

 

Truth be told, this photo is from a few years ago.  This winter I doubt we got more than about a foot of snow accumulation, and the snowbanks were almost non-existent.  But spring appears to be arriving.  

Over the weekend, we had the hottest temps ever recorded for the same date since records started being kept (around 100+ years of data).

This morning, local journalist confirmed what others had been saying - the bears are waking up much earlier than 'usual', with little to no food available and them hungry as...bears in the spring.

The confluence of the two rivers this town is situated on is a gravel 'desert' with just a trickle of water.  And yet some people are still insisting this is all 'normal'.  No.  Not it is not.

I look out the window, knowing the state of the bush that surrounds us, that makes up 90% of this province truth be told, and know that if we don't get rain soon to break the drought the wildfires will get bad again.  Our town has been lucky - so far.  Instead of us being told to evacuate, our town has prepared itself to host those who have been.  Will this be the year that it is *our* turn to evacuate?

For those old enough to remember, I feel like Joe Blixjthel (spelling is wrong) who always had a dark cloud trailing behind him.

I feel like the Dutch boy with his finger in the dyke, trying to hold the water back.

I feel like Charlie Brown, hoping against hope that Lucy will NOT pull the football away this time.  

I feel like it is futile to keep making yet more tea towels.

And yet.

And yet.

I have a studio full of yarn that really needs to be transformed into something, so why not tea towels?

I find solace in my time at the loom, where I am completely in the moment and can stop fretting about the future.

I get a few minutes of aerobic activity to add to my Fitbit count, a few more endorphins to help reduce pain.  Add some positive energy to the world.  Construct something, rather than destroy anything.

While the new therapy shows promise, I am still a long ways away from where I would like to be.  Right now, weaving is about the only thing keeping me going.

And yesterday I committed to writing some articles for publication.  With no drug induced brain fog, I finally feel like I can think again.  And some flexible deadlines will mean I can write at my 'leisure' with less pressure.

And so I go on, hoarding my energy 'spoons', taking afternoon naps.  Little by little, trying to move forward with hope.

Because it is the season of spring, when hope takes root.  

May your garden be filled with plots of hope.

Ultimately I cannot change the course of the entire world, but I *can* help individuals.  So I focus on that - the micro - and hope enough of us will do the same which *might* help change the course of the world.