It is past the middle of February. Here in Worcester, MA, we are buried in snow, and I think I heard that more is on the way.

Coming out of our driveway, the snowbanks are so high on both sides, and across the street at the car wash entrance, that it feels like we live in an old fashioned icebox. Snow mountains as far as the eye can see. The roads have been reduced to one lane. It's crazy.

I am still in hibernate mode.

And yet, I can feel Spring. I detect the small stirrings and whisperings of life, far beneath the frozen ground. I know it's imminent.
People think I am nuts if I mention this-- I read one account that said this is the snowiest winter on record, for this area, since they've been keeping records. Some 120 years.

And I'm happy. Totally, completely happy. I think I chose my name (WinterHeart) rightly. I would not want too much of it, mind you-- but four seasons, weather-appropriate, I can deal with.
Plus, it's fun to be so mind-boggled with all this snow.

My tendencies run to gratitude. For living indoors, first and foremost, and for heat (however inadequate my apartment heat is), and for running water. Especially for water.

I tire of people grumbling about the weather. As if it's anything under our control! Me, I work on contentment for What Is. Spring will happen when it happens, and then I will be ready. But not before.