Ol’ Puxatawny wouldn’t ‘a seen his shadow in these parts today.Wouldn’t have mattered much anyway. Down here we have our own predictors of spring’s imminence.
One haunts the deep swamps and dark backwaters of our coastal low country.
I’m talkin’ alligators, here.
Gators to most of us who’ve been down south long enough for a bit of y’all to creep into our speech pattern.
See, gators are cold blooded…so, if it’s cold outside so is he and he’s gonna stay someplace warm. But, when the sun warms the breeze and knocks the chill out of the water he’ll be out lookin’ for a snack or two and maybe even some excitement to his otherwise boring love life.
What with the forsythia already bloomed and azaleas peeking color in places like Charleston, Summerville and Hilton Head, Mr. Gator is pretty sure spring has sprung and out sunning himself waiting for Mz. Right Now to come along.
Now, up here in mountainous country, we look to the trees and under dead leaves for Wooly Worms.
Yup, wooly worms…fuzzy little caterpillars with alternating brown and black stripes. Legend says the black stripes represent cold wintry weather and the brown signify milder temps.
According to Mrs. Simmons’ kindergarten class, their little wooly worm, Walter, prophesied a cold start to mellow in the middle and then depart in a blast of icy fury. So far, Walter’s been right on target with November’s ice storm and temps recently so warm things are greening up way too soon. Folks are out tending gardens that are bound to freeze when that blast hits and farmers are hoping the peach buds stay tight for another month or so.
Now, what do you reckon does all that have to do with this old Outlaw?
Well…I look for turtles.
Yeah…turtles…more to the point Box Turtles. 
They’re none too smart about sunning in the road. Sadly, their lifespan is often cut short from bein’ run over by Bubba in his old pickup truck. But, they recognize a warm day when they feel it. But, today’s a glum, rainy day; hence, they’re tucked into their little waterproof shells burrowed down in their snug little dens dug into root hollows below the frost line.
In true terrapin fashion, I’ve done the same.
My friend Frances’ passing has touched memories I just didn’t expect and led me down a road where what WAS fogs what IS with what will no more BE.
I can be happy for her...she had a long, interesting, happy though widowed life.
Still…
I can't reconcile the same with Jim’s so suddenly and dramatically cut short before I was ready to even think about moving through the rest of my life without him beside me. (As if there is ever such a time.)
I don’t get me. I mean…he died…I shattered into a million pieces…I worked hard to put myself mostly back together once more…I’m at a place where I'm OK...most days excellent, even. Smiling, laughing and having a good life are all visible on my plate again.
Yet, the old nightmares began their replay robbing me of precious sleep and leaving me either cross or pensively silent. After nearly 4 years at this, I'm not knocked flat…this is a temporary state of mind…it WILL pass. I'm just blue and not cheerful company right now…could I escape my own presence I would…I have no patience with the woman staring back in the mirror.
(sigh)
Where’s them barn boots? Reckon it’s time to yank me head outta me arse and kick some sense into my ownself and live up to my nickname.
Barn boots and the GM...seems we can't get rid of either one. I'll be glad to crank the radio up, hit the accelarator on the car, roll down the window and pitch that GM right out...SPLAT! Anything to help you feel better, my friend.
ReplyDeleteYou leave that woman in the mirror alone. She has worked hard to find herself and if she has a bad day or two or five she has earned the right to have them. The bad days is wisdom laboring to be born. What was and never will be again will give way to what is and how wonderful the is is.
ReplyDeleteHug the woman in the mirror and tell her I love her.
Y'all are just to good to me.
ReplyDeleteCH...that analogy has always been one that gave the power back to me rather than GM...thank you.
Sandie...she hugs you back.
I've pulled my head outta me arse and am looking to see what this little sidetrack is trying to teach me.
That old nightmare of watching him died before my eyes was a hard movie to shed myself of in the beginning. I'm not willing to go back to those days again if I can help it, but there seems to be something I didn't get the first time around.
Then again...maybe it's just reruns and I should turn the channel.
The weather here is always perplexing, especially during the winter.
ReplyDeleteThe sunlight is enough to blind you on most days , but on others paired with a deceitful wind waving through the palms that grips you right behind your ears.
Then the next day it's bright and overly warm.
I remember those wooly things from WV.
Our azaleas are starting to show up here as well.
Love your pictures.
The turtle is so cute.
We use to have turtles living in our strawberry patch in our back yard in Turkey.
Outlaw, this grief thing , I find it shape shifts.
It's crafty,
never quite leaving , just loitering around like a mercenary waiting for that soft spot
that 's never healed .
My grief is mostly quiet these days,
melded with my everyday living somehow ,taken up residence and just won't give up the key.
Sometimes I am in public, and I turn around and think "Didn't I just forget something?"
That sense of feeling naked
like in dreams .
Only my clothes are still on, and it's my heart that 's stripped bare .
((Outlaw))
I like those tortoises too, and turtles. I always figured they were the best symbol for us military brats, traveling with our homes on our backs.
ReplyDeleteMaybe that's why I love getting in a car and driving or being driven, long road trips. To outrun the GM, leave him behind.
SB