sublimation

Driving to work this morning I was treated to a rich glimpse of sunrise sky which featured a combination of orange and turquoise, for which I have occasionally drawn ridicule as a chosen clothing color choice. (I reckon my shoes clashed.) But in the sky it was movie set material, for most any planet you could wish to populate with pleasant, well-shod aliens. (Of course, if it was their planet they wouldn't be aliens, would they?) So the patch of sky that caught my eye was this much-preferred shade of blue, and the clouds a bottom-lit orange -- one in particular was a neat oval with an inner edge carved out by a recently vanished sky-spoon to allow the blue to peek through. That sort of lighting, I thought (as I deftly steered the truck back into the right lane) is best experienced when the mind is still geared low from sleep. Or just geared low -- a function of age, I find.

So the day dawned, and the sun tried to be warm, and the cold wind blew out of Canada. We're all fairly desperately committed to this Spring thing ; we had such nice mud and now it's all frozen again! The road crew was out today dumping gravel on the ruts and smoothing things out as if it wasn't going to be plowing time again as soon as the weather turns. Notice how I say 'as soon as' with that precious conviction that, as Spring has always come before, so it will this time as well. I'm thinking, if the snow won't melt, maybe it can just quietly sublimate and leave old Winter none the wiser.

There's this Welsh song I know; Mae'r Ddaear yn Glasu (The Earth Is Greening), and I sing it softly to myself as I wash toilets in the morning, prepping the school for the arrival of the kiddies. I don't even remember what all of the words mean, but it always evokes a quiet militancy which I can carry through the day. I nod encouragement to the frozen crocuses in the planter boxes outside the school. Carry on, guys. Nobody says nay to axial tilt!