Spring arrived yesterday in New York; the fourth blizzard of the season arrived today. Mother Nature has a sense of humor. The whole world seems upside down.
Two days ago, spring seemed on her way: the crocuses had sprung up. I had been in the park taking photographs of Lenten roses still dug deep beneath thick mud, struggling to stretch delicate buds above the snow. Delia and Susie had been spending quite a lot of time sitting in the front window, watching passerbys slowly abandoning their heavy winter coats. Time stretched one way.
Today, it stretches another.Delia and Susie are so less confused than I about the snowflakes falling outside our window. They barely noticed how unusually dark it was this morning. There was no sunlight to wake them up, but their stomachs had urged their awake. They hadn’t any need to consult a weather channel to confirm the goings-on for the day.
And their friends outside–they are out under the gazebo, curled in the corner, well protected under the tarp. And it’s only started to snow.
My days, so ordered, get so easily overturned. Upended. Disrupted and disturbed. Theirs are taken in stride.
Of course, mine are important and theirs…? All days, important. All days, meant to be enjoyed. Today, one for the scheduled to become unexpected. To remember those feelings of snow days being announced when you were a child.
Delia and Susie live in the unexpected. I find it more difficult. Traffic jams, flat tires, thunderstorms and blizzards can ruin my whole day when, instead, they could offer respite. A few minutes to sit on the windowsill. A moment to catch a nap. A second to play. Catch a sunbeam and lay down in it.
Aren’t those the little instructions I’ve learned from my cat?
