February

February

It’s almost over. Why is it that the shortest month of the year seems to drag on forever? Even though daylight is slowly overtaking the darkness of the winter solstice, the bright sunny days of summer are still far off. February is like living in a cocoon that promises release but slow to produce.

Looking out the window of my study this morning, nothing is moving. The occasional sound of a train grinding down a steel track or the whining of an airplane carrying people to a more gracious climate. The choking of a car engine gasping for life after a frigid night on the tarmac. Not the sounds of vibrant life.

There is no green grass or flowering plant. The bare sticks of tree branches waiting patiently for life giving sap to once again burst into buds. Only the fir trees give a greenish glow against the glaring white of snow. More flakes falling from the sky as another reminder that summer is far away.

On the patio things are not much different. The few remaining boughs of the Christmas tree cling to the bird feeders. Frozen water sits idly in the bird bath. Finches, flickers, magpies, chickadees and an occasional woodpecker make pilgrimage to sunflower seeds and suet; substance for their survival.

From the comfort of an easy chair nestled near the warmth of our wood burning fireplace, I look out another window and see the meandering parade of whitetail does and their yearlings searching for food and shelter. What once was their playground is now a subdivision for people who want a taste of the West.

The Holidays are but a distant memory. Valentine’s Day and Presidents Day over. What lies ahead is March, April and May. In Montana that means the slow awaking of spring as it battles its way through the ravages of winter. By that time, we are shedding our parkas and boots and digging out the shorts and flip flops.

Goodbye to the tranquility of February. I look forward to seeing you again next year!