|Graveyard down the road.|
Of course it's a leap year: this is not the last day of February, however much I wish it was. I'm angry with February. February took my cat away, plunged us into great financial uncertainty, kept us cold, took away most of my time for blogging and reading, and more often than not disappointed me every morning with it's sullen, grey light. The days have begun, only just, to become noticeably longer, however I credit this to March trying to break through to end this dismal limbo of late-winter. Any good within this month is down to March, because nothing inspires hope and change quite like it. Not even New Year: however invigorating it may feel, light and colour is still at the very least two months away. March brings this, the early days of spring where one can forgive the grey light because it's so close to getting brighter. The weather, slightly warmer (February offers no comfort, no, none whatsoever, despite what it has done: utterly remorseless month); the colours; slightly brighter; the smells, slightly sweeter. I need Muddy March, and I was glad to return home from my walk earlier with my boots and hem of my skirt caked in thick mud (pictures from the walk here). So close, now. I'm looking forward to my "1st day of the month" post more than any other month. March can be forgiven for an awful lot, because I know that though the majority of March, in calendar terms, is officially the winter months, spring is so noticeably winning the battle.
As for February, well, it's legacy may well live on for the coming months. It has wreaked havoc on 2012, but I give up on it. I give up on waiting for it to be over, and anticipating any periods of calm. Yes, I am hopeful about March, but that hope has partly sprung from resigning myself to February's legacy. It has done what it has done, there's no undoing it. It is what it is, and there is peace to be found in accepting the chaos. You see, when I say "I give up", it sounds awful, like I'm planning on hiding under the covers until things calm down, but I give up on thinking things will calm down any time soon, and I give up on saying, "things can't get any worse" because the remorseless month has proved how foolish it is to say such things. I don't think there's any point any more in waiting for peace, no point in saying, "I'll wait until tomorrow to write my blog post" (there have been so many lost blog posts because of that), or, "I'll read later when my mind is a bit clearer". There really is no point in putting off the things I love any longer, because if I continue with this, I may be putting it off for months. My mind is as clear as it can be under the circumstances (which, I must say, is pretty clear: things are no where near as awful as they have been at various points of the last four weeks), so I continue against the odds. I give up waiting.
And perhaps this is spring talking, saying quite suddenly that there is peace in accepting chaos. My hope hasn't disappeared, far from it. I'm just wading through it now, instead of hovering on the outskirts and wishing it would go away. It's there, and I'm here, and I have things to do, so do them. Yes, I think it is spring talking. I can't not feel excited by March. I can't not have goals and plans. I don't accept that things will continue as they have done, but for as long as they do I'll keep pushing forward. All this seems very contradictory, giving up and at the same time, not giving up on anything. But I do, all the same. And I look forward to March.
As for the last day and a half of February, well, all I can do right now is turn behind me, reach into the cupboard, and put the hot water on so I can have a bath after I've exercised. I do have a lot of plans for the final weeks of winter, which I will write about in my "first of the month" post, but for now: I'm behind with Les Misérables (only a little), and behind with The Bible (I should be up to Ezra now, however I'm only half way through 1 Kings). So I'll catch up on that, and keep reading The Old Curiosity Shop.