February

February, while the shortest month of the year, has been full of seasonal expression and change. Just a few weeks ago, winter made her continued presence known, draping the landscape in pure white, carving drifts with the sharp arctic air. This was the fourth snowfall of the season, and since it arrived on a weekend, we found ourselves pulled away from our long run and napping, cooking, and resting together. The dogs, undeterred, ran outside like wolves, their white breath billowing out like smoke as they returned to the house with faces full of white powder.

Just two weeks later, the ice is gone, and the low temperatures have risen from the teens to the mid-forties, with upcoming days as warm as seventy degrees. In the forest, the tree limbs that once looked like old, wretched hands have subtly changed shape, transforming into small buds that look like tiny knuckles along the branches. The calendar says spring is not yet here, but nature eludes our attempt to cage its cycles.

Change is just around the corner, and my thoughts have turned toward the new season. It’s time to prepare the fishing poles and tackle, time to pull the kayaks out of storage, and time to prepare the fire pit and deck for more time spent outdoors. Spring in North Carolina is beautiful, and I’m preparing for a celebratory reunion.