Reading as medicine


Today wet snow and sleet mix making everything messy and drippy. Some of this snow which is piled so deeply everywhere will inevitable evaporate and melt, shrinking slowly away, but when?  Even this sloppy stuff isn’t making much of a dent in it.   Sunset at 5:36 which should be an exciting step in the right direction, but feels like a statistic these days.  Added light each day for the books but not so much for the psyche.

What makes the doldrums easier is a gardener’s journal that expresses a bleak winter mood and  a sympathetic boredom, but does so with a flowery outlook–and  a gardener’s point of view.  Pages like windows each with a more in- depth slant on that particular  view. A drift of thinking, through an ever- soothing window of light.

Tillie stands elevated to the height of the Crab Apple tree branches by the deep snow out front and munches on their tips as well as jumping for berries just out of reach,  as if for nourishment or exercise or both.   She also finds the  woody stems of hibernating shrubs especially chewy.  It may well be the medicine that feeds her soul.


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