. . . the rain it raineth every day.
Shakespeare could have been describing any winter month on Vancouver Island. Like most of the Pacific Northwest, winter here is grey and damp. Moss and lichen quietly multiply in forests and on the rocky shores. On rare days, the sun makes an appearance and I look for a “sun trap”: a bench against a south facing wall or a fallen log next to a large rock, out of the wind. Here, warmth and light fall on grateful skin.
Spring, when it comes, is tremendously exciting. Each day’s rainy walk brings more green shoots, more perfect buds, more emerging flowers. Even though it’s still wet and chilly, there are flowers. Nature is no longer bare and grey, but adorned with these bright glories.
In the summer, I stay outside for many hours of the long, sunny days to tend and admire my garden. In the winter, I stay inside, making paintings of flowers. The colours of my paints make winter flowers to cheer my days and speed winter’s passage.