In Both Seasons

One tiny daffodil blade has broken through.  I found it this morning while rescuing Scout who had wrapped herself around a tree and was crying like she’d die ~ like I don’t always come and get her every time she does this.  No matter how many times I walk her back the other way, unwinding as she goes, she cannot do it by herself.  Like me and my surprise to see that baby green spear again, as if spring weren’t coming back this year.
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I love winter, so long as the ground is snowy or dry.  But muddy. . .  gee whiz I hate muddy winter.  I hate it because dogs love it, which means we get muddy winter outdoors and in.  My floors are filthy, and the dogs smell constantly like . . . well, like wet and muddy dogs.  Winter dog baths are not fun because then the bathroom (instead of the back deck) has to be power washed as well.  Chickens like the mud as well, but they stay outdoors no matter what.  Their feet get hilariously muddy, then tarred with feathers and pine bedding which they spend the afternoons pecking off.  They comb the mud for bits of grass and other treats, then shake their feathers out and bask in the winter sun.

I remind myself the winter’s barely half over, but it’s a pretty day and I saw a flower blade.  We’ll blink and spring will be here, everything brand-new baby green.  On days like this we get to live in both seasons, if only in our thoughts.  I pray the day is warm in ways you did not expect.