Transitions

     Got up this morning. Sent hubby and the higher-schooler off for the day. Let out the dogs. Poured my morning tea. Checked the outside thermometer and I read -4.


     Minus four degrees! I mumble, "No matter what they say about global warming, they lie!" I look back at the calendar. Next month is March. March is an iffy month at best. Wind, snow, balmy sunshine, more wind, cold rains, mud, freak snowstorms, morning ice ... Did I mention wind?


     But March - for all its lion/lamb unpredictability - is a month of transition. Transition from how our planet angles itself toward the sun, from frigid to temperate, from a gray-brown landscape to a green-brown landscape, from minus four degrees to plus anything.


     Transitions are good. Why? Let us say that I hope all transitions mean forward movement. Progress. Onward and upward. Not backwards, and certainly not standing still stuck.


     As I approach my 60th birthday, I view seasonal change as a time for moving forward to new horizons, new challenges, new adventures. It is the Year of the Horse (yes, I was born this year-no coincidence), a year of blessing and freedom. I was also born on St. Valentine's Day, which I'm sure fate had a hand in, since I've always been a slobbering romantic, and I'm even more so now.


     Leaving the fifties and transitioning into the sixties makes my perspective on all transitions of time something that I see as far more relevant. It's clearer to me that life moves forward, whether or not I embrace it as something to be anticipated and appreciated.


     Perhaps that is why I have always looked forward to an unwritten future. As such, with another day at hand, I put my creative pen to page and write on as I wait for the frozen land beneath me to slowly transition into another spring,