Ease

 By Maryanna Gabriel

Self Portrait
(pencil)

There is a point in winter, in the stillness of the dark, when I forget this is not forever. The hours feel heavy and time slows. To deal with this, I have been keeping a daily appointment with myself which entails curling up with a good book and a cuppa. Under my blankie I enter another world. Not sure why I have forgotten how much I love this quiet pleasure because I emerge refreshed and in love with my day. Well done, I say to myself. Time well spent. Good job. 

Although it is February, here on the Southern Gulf Islands, the garden is waking up. The days dawn much earlier, and it's a surprise. Why I don't know given it's like this every year at this time. Today I cleaned some windows with an unaccustomed vigour as the sunlight poured in. Outside, crocuses are blooming as are the miniature daffodils. It's time. 

With this inner awareness, I cleaned out a little planter box near my kitchen garden and planted lettuce seeds. Of course, it's early. I'm well aware that winter likes to give a kick or two before departing. But the truth is, everything is on the move, meaning the kale and chard have yielded several salads this week and well... what more proof do I need? Gosh. Should I be mowing the lawn?

So the lethargy of winter is actually a rest. So is the reading. Resting is not something I do well at. Given that nature models it, I am trying to improve my sense of ease with the quieter time that is winter. However, before I read today, there are plants to divide and transplant. A cusp between stillness and movement. So off I go - before I sit with the final chapter.