Testing my Patience
April is the ultimate test of patience:
Shivering in spring jackets, because we can no longer stand to layer ourselves in winter wear; fingers icy because we refuse to wear gloves for even one more day; wiping snow off the car with our sleeves because, frankly, we are fed up.
Watching the snow melt, only to wake up to earth covered – once again – in snow; waiting for the ice to break up in the bay; driving deliberately through puddles so the spray scatters onto snowbanks in the hopes they will melt just a little bit more.
Patience brings rewards, too:
That first glimpse of salty water under the bridge and rivers beginning to flow once more.
An edge of lawn; a blade of green grass.
Sand and waves and a single piece of sea glass.
April can be a cruel month, but the rewards are worth the wait.
Small signs are beginning to show that spring is near: Longer days, warmer afternoons, and evidence of melted snow (however small).
Since it is my habit to look closely (not to mention my desperation for the end of winter to arrive), I have noticed these details. The mountainous snow drift outside my window now allows just a bit of light to peak over it into my kitchen. Puddles are beginning to appear at the sides of snow banks. And ice is showing up in places that had been covered for weeks, a sign that the melt is beginning.
With all of this warm weather we’ve been having, the snow has been rather soft.
And so, while walking through my backyard looking around for photo possibilities, I fell right through it. Incredibly, I managed to fall without dropping my camera in the snow.
As I was getting up, I looked down and noticed these little frozen bubbles by my feet.
I crouched low and managed a few shots before the dogs tore through them and sent them flying.
Another January rainfall. Another frozen landscape.
Before it melted away with the unseasonably warm sun, I managed a few shots.
These berries and branches, with their glassy layer, caught my eye. In their shaded area below the larger trees, the ice held on long enough for me to capture a few photos.
Freezing rain is the last thing I want to see in the winter.
I dread the roads, fear the driveway, and curse the icy layer on the car.
But I can’t help myself: It is pretty. So I brave the backyard and head out with my camera. The world is layered in glass.
Treacherous, yet stunningly beautiful.