Fields are resilient and eternally hopeful entities, and they do not wait long to regenerate, sending fragile shoots and tendrils of green forth before the winter's snows have settled back into the earth. Amid these dried grasses of last summer's harvest are small islands of green nestled among the feathery drifts of gold and brown.
After a few days of Spring weather here, we are back into winter, a renewed winter which makes hard ice underfoot and sends raw winds scouring across the hills, poking frigid fingers through boots, gloves and parks, stinging one's face and lacerating all exposed skin. In spite of the winter weather, my fields in Lanark continue to send out their trusting sprigs, reminding me that even on such a cold day, there is life in the earth below.
1 comment:
We awoke to a layer of snow, too. Sudden winter. Again. How do you do it - walking in the cold? I cannot. My tolerance for cold [which was always minimal] has disappeared.
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