Sunday, February 24, 2013

...I Said, "No, No, No."

February days in my town are cruel and unrelenting. In February I can never remember what day it is. Monday? Tuesday? Does it matter? If you were to draw February, you would need only charcoal: lightest gray, lighter gray, light gray, gray, dark gray, darker gray, darkest gray. Read Kafka's descriptions of the landscape, and you'll nod in discouraged recognition.

February won't even submit to proper spelling.

These are days when my eyes yearn for just one spot of color. The sky and ground do not oblige. The line between them is imperceptible, as resistant to geometry as the muddy, old snow underfoot.

No need to wash the car, because dirt and snow and dirty snow will fleck its exterior within hours.

Who wouldn't be depressed in and by this climate? I'd like to meet that person. I've yet to meet that person.

The children in my classroom are fretful. It's been too cold to have outdoor recess. They argue listlessly with one another. Any gains they've made since September are, for now, reversed. They tip chairs, spill crayons, trip over their own feet.

My cat whines at all the windows. One morning he manages to escape to the garage. In a minute he has skulked back into the house, cowed by the cold. In defeat he falls ungainly onto the floor and whimpers. I know just how he feels. Nothing to do for it but wait until March, I whisper to his slumped form. (I whisper so that no one who might worry has to hear my crazy.)

If only I could discern one day from the next, I'd come so much closer to accepting the terms of February's confinement.


Hannah said...

God, I hate February. Every year. This year has been especially bad... toilet training & belligerent toddlers & feelings of being completely overwhelmed by my life... just this morning I burst into tears over the necessity of baking a batch of muffins.

You have put into words exactly what is killing me this month. I am wearily right there with you, my friend.

Mary Gilmour said...

So true. So well evoked.
However, the blue jays at my feeder are courting, doing the spring 'doink doink' call and offering sunfower seeds to their intendeds.
And when we do get sun, it's warm.
And my grandkid got a silver medal at her gym meet yesterday.
And, there's no March mud.


V-Grrrl @ Compost Studios said...

Seasonal depression has put out a Hit on me. I am wary and weary.

alejna said...

It's a good thing February is the short month. It does manage to seem long, though. Today is the last day before school starts up following February vacation, and we'd hoped to get out. Instead, it's a mess of ice and slush out there, and we are holed up inside. Again. I had to pull Phoebe out from under the dining room table, where she'd flopped into a puddle of mopiness.

I have to say that while I commiserate with you about the dreariness, your clever use of words and images put a big smile on my face. (The charcoal, the cat, the crazy...) So thank you for shining a bit of light into my own gray day.

Nicole said...

The good news is it will be MARCH by the end of the week! xoxo

Amanda said...

I get this and, I can say without hesitation that this February has been a beast in many ways for me personally. Yet, sweetly yet, today I escaped outdoors despite the downpour, despite the ivy slush that fell last night, and lost myself in the rosy cheeks and piercing blue eyes of my girls. The bitter bite of cold and hurt only makes the spring ahead that much more welcoming. Soon. xo

Anonymous said...

You have such a way with words. It is so true that winter shapes resist geometry! I also love the part about 'February' not sounding the way it is spelled. This is Meredith, by the way, here from the Yeah Write challenge. So glad I found you!

Christine said...

I am so done with winter and this month, too. I am over the many many shades of gray.

Vicky said...

I have always said the only good thing about February is that it's the shortest month of the year.