I love. I so relish hibernating through the winter in the loving embrace of Earth, warmed by the loving gifts of Sky. Throughout this time of regeneration I have had visits from friends and have been blessed by angels. It seems that so often they are one and the same, a discovery that lends a special anticipation to making new friends.

I have also spent days in complete solitude. I have relearned to love it, and to embrace it. I recognize it now as a vital part of recharging and learning more about myself and my relationship to all that is.

Sometimes, most times, my chi is abundant and my aura is filled, and I am a vessel for light and love living in an ocean of light and love. But once in awhile I still feel the wound in the back of my heart center, and feel the cold whistling up my spine. However, as I spend time blissfully soaking in the increasing solar radiance, small arroyos of depression are farther between. The best remedy still is to remind myself of how truly and continually I am blessed.

Grape hyacinths sent up their grass-like leaves last fall, and they are winter-burned to spirals at the tips. Crocuses are late. The harbingers of spring this year are teeny blue irises by the native limestone that serves as my front walk. Called “Harmony,” they stand just four inches high, as much flower as stalk. They are two weeks later than usual, but all the more welcome for it. I see the tips of the other hyacinths just peeking out of the ground, a few brave tulip leaves, and daffodils that budded up right around our last hard freeze but then decided to bide their time.

Robins have been back for three weeks, ring-neck turtle doves have returned, and still-drab sprinklings of finches jostle impossibly red cardinals at the feeders. Flocks of redwing blackbirds come through, sing their whirring watersongs for a day, and travel on. House wrens are warbling their purest love, more music than bird, and scouting for nest sites.

Occasional balmy breezes bring rivulets of soil aromas. The scent of rain no longer hints at snow. I inhale and feel stronger and more alive with each breath. The sweet throbbing of life surfacing again in such abundance is my wakeup call. Embody love. Be ready.