Grey Skies And Sleet Falling

What A Wonderful Morning


   Big dark grey skies welcome us this March morning, a mixture of rain and sleet falling over the fens and that cold winter feel runs between Ash and Willow like a naughty child making sure everyone knows it's there.
   No wonderful wide skies with theatre backdrop white clouds on this start to the day, no spring sunshine to tease us into thoughts of summer, just fine ice drops falling onto the dark soil and river banks, sleet that does slide without interruption down every reed until hitting the waters surface.
   Oh winter why do you play these tricks on us, why not pass and let spring warm our back once more, your long cold months we lived and your snow we walk upon while others walked warmer roads and saw sunshine every day, is it not our turn to see buds bloom and leaf grow, never will we forget you nor speak ill of your coldness and again we will welcome you this year end as we do every year, just move on and say goodby for these next eight months, don't bully us more, just let us smile once again in early morning sun.
   A sparrowhawk sits on the round timbers of garden fence watching while every small bird is gone, not one stays while this regal prince of the fens is hunting, his head rocks as his eyes flicker and scan every branch and shrub, the sleet hitting his wide back and bouncing to the ground, no food for him this morning, no painted faces to carry away, I wish him gone and my little friends safe once more.
   With the white ice laying a fine carpet over the garden it is a warm working day ahead for this bead maker, my seat by the kiln calls and a flame that will burn and warm my thoughts awaits me, today I hope my aches will leave and my legs will belong once more to me, these last few days I've felt so old and slow but it will pass, it always does.