This morning is much less eventful than yesterday. On Monday morning, we were tucked away inside, continuing work on our ampersand almanac while gusts of freezing rain swept past the window.
Looking back, the whole scene brings to mind William Carlos Williams' lovely meditation on a vernal blast...
William Carlos Williams
The sky has given over
Out of the dark change
all day long
rain falls and falls
as if it would never end.
Still the snow keeps
its hold on the ground.
But water, water
from a thousand runnels!
It collects swiftly,
dappled with black
cuts a way for itself
through green ice in the gutters.
Drop after drop it falls
from the withered grass-stems
of the overhanging embankment.
We love this poem for its ardent love of nature's many faces. How wise was Williams to admire the snow's determined hold on the ground, when most of us can only curse this untimely visitor?
On dark and dreary days like these, it takes a sharp eye to discern the spring.
Hummingbirds float on a black background. From Ampersand Almanac, in progress
Yet, Williams reminds us that even the dark is a signal of the presence of life. Maybe we should admire the ice and snow for its tenacity instead of resenting it for hanging around.
After all, isn't that what the ampersand is all about?