It snows most days now. The tight grip of winter is exhausting. The layers of clothes required for every outing, the biting wind requiring face coverage, ice under foot and the need for ice grips are always a consideration now if my husband and I attempt a walk. We have resorted to time on the treadmill, a poor and disliked alternative.
Around the house, the snow piles up and along the driveway where banks of snow have begun their annual visit. We are fortunate to have a plow do most of the work but walkways and patio must be cleared too. Meanwhile inside, the fireplace is for more than ambience these days.
But there it sits on the window ledge above the kitchen sink.
A splash of colour and its spaghetti roots swaying in the water when I move it to close the blind for the night. The vase my friend, Lucy, gave me a few years ago holds a hyacinth bulb she gave me for Christmas. Just add water to kiss the bottom of the bulb and roots sprout and grow. Eventually a touch of spring arrives on the window ledge, a scent of hyacinth and a splash of colour to distract from what is happening outside.