February 1

It is hard to believe that winter is taking its final turn.  I was so enkindled by the romance of those autumnal days and nights that I have spent much of this current season in an idyllic trance.  It would seem hasty to utter the word spring, as just beyond my window lay a picturesque winter scene.  Yet, the almanac does not mind to controvert this.  I am in eager anticipation of those first blooms of the Dogwood.  It is not because I have an aversion for winter.  In fact I get particular warmth from the chill.  But I must say I am ready to come alive again!  There is a part of me that wants to hibernate for these few frigid months.  My creative impulses are idle – hastened by the first frost just as the many blades of grass.  But come sun and rain; alongside the roses in my garden will grow my thoughts, wildly.   They are liken-to burst forth in a surge of creation, forcing me to manage them lest they choke out one-another!  I am ready for this busy work – to finally see what has been at long rest under the soil, and to cultivate it into existence.  But as for to-day, I return to introspection. 

Warmly,
Mister Hazelwood