Pruning

There was a time when Spring meant easter egg hunts, Summer was about the pool, Fall was for building fires, and Winter meant waiting for a sunny afternoon to prune the rose bushes. It's been such a cold season this year, and while I normally prune in January here it is the 31st and my bushes are all tall and scraggly and as yet untended. Today would have been a good pruning day; I think last night might have been the last frost, and it was beautiful out this afternoon. Crisp and golden. But I knew it would exhaust me, and I can imagine how forlorn I must have looked as I turned away and headed back up the driveway; not to get my shears from out back, but instead returning inside to reheat my tea and settle back onto the couch. I am grateful that it is only a cold keeping me in, and that I most likely will have another golden day in which I can prune. Imagine not having that in front of you, of there being no promise of the coming warmth, and knowing everything was over.

Which brings me to the point I was thinking about when I sat down to write; my life feels like it's winter, and I'm waiting for a sunny day to do some pruning. And the healthy girl I feel trapped inside is just waiting to spring forth when the right season rolls along. It's hard to be living in limbo when I know I should be living in the now. But I feel like my soul is getting ready to expand, you know, that cocoon to butterfly feeling. I am definitely feeling hopeful. I doesn't matter that I know things are bound to get a little harder before that happens, you know that other cliche - the dark before the dawn? Anyway, this hope, it's just a small feeling that I have, and I wanted to put it out there, maybe help it grow a little. Lord knows I'm going to need it to get through the pruning stage. Two more months.