February is the month of promise — at least here in Saskatchewan.
Winter holds sway, a heavy hand upon the dormant land.
But each sunrise sneaks in a minute or two earlier and the day
stretches itself like a tom cat, out for the first time in weeks.
Before the shortest month laps the track, the first migrating birds
complete their astonishing flights back from wintering grounds.
Winter snow banks fall in upon themselves like sunken cheeks.
Sol climbs the southern ladder higher daily, muscling cold aside.
Seed catalogues sprout, greenhouses germinate new growth
and those who said, No more gardening for me! recant.
Sometimes a clipper wind hurls itself down the Rockies
and hotfoots across the plains, nipping at the heels of winter
Before spending itself in its haste to eat the snow; then winter
reasserts itself for a short time, confusing and confounding us.
February is the ultimate contradiction. It drives us to distraction
because it’s full of promise and enticement it seldom delivers.
© by Glen Sorestad.
Used with the author’s permission.