It's February! — Marilyn Lamoreux Photography

Icicles hang down from parts of the roof. The sky is bright blue and sun is shining. Temperatures are below freezing but not too cold. There’s snow on the ground and ice fishermen and fisherwomen are out on Medicine Lake (near where I live) and other Minnesota lakes enjoying their fish houses.

I am beginning to look forward to spring’s arrival. My hope springs eternal for an early spring. We’ll see what happens as the weeks slide by.

It’s February!

I always breathe a deep sigh of relief when I can say “Goodbye” to the dark days of December and January. The short daylight length of those months is challenging for me. Add on the record number of cloudy days in January that we had this year, and February’s bright skies make me feel positively giddy.

Today is the first of February, snowy, brilliant, but dripping with the sound of spring wherever the sun lies warm, and calling with the heart of spring yonder where the crows are assembling. There is spring in the talk of the chickadees outside my window, and in the cheerful bluster of a red squirrel in the hickory. ~Dallas Lore Sharp, The Atlantic Monthly, February 1908

Have you noticed that the day length feels appreciably longer now? This morning when I got up I stood coatless, out on our deck for a couple of minutes greeting the morning sun to the east. It is so delightful to see the sun in the sky instead of endless clouds.

We have almost an hour more of daylight now than on the shortest day of the year (December 21). And by the end of February daylight hours will stretch another hour. Getting up to do a sunrise photo shoot will become more and more challenging for me as the sunrise time slips earlier and earlier. But I’m not complaining. Getting up at early-o’clock once in a while to take in a sunrise is worth it when the days feel so much brighter and long.

I thought the world was cold in death;
The flowers, the birds, all life was gone,
For January’s bitter breath
Had slain the bloom and hushed the song.
And still the earth is cold and white,
And mead and forest yet are bare;
But there’s a something in the light
That says the germ of life is there.
~Mrs. Jane [Goodwin] Austin, “February,” c.1886

Overcoming Resistance on the Way to Joy

No matter how much I put off getting up early for sunrise photo shoots, whenever I push through my own resistance and get up early enough to go out for sunrise I am always happy that I made the effort. The light is magical at that time of day and I often feel surrounded by a pink glow that warms my heart. This is one way that I choose joy. Choosing joy does not mean taking the path of least resistance. It means pushing through resistance and putting out effort. When I find myself procrastinating and making excuses, I ask myself, “If not now, when?” That often gets me moving.

Life is short and unpredictable.

Choose joy now, not at some indeterminate future date.

Do the work. Push through the resistance. Sometimes clouds will cover the sun or your plans won’t work out as intended. Even then, you can find joy in the effort.

Joy does not simply happen to us. We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day. — Henri J.M. Nouwen

Remembering to be grateful

I am still celebrating feeling better after the long dreary days of January when both Jon and I were down with a nasty virus. Today I went to Pilates class, worked up a good sweat, tired out my muscles, and came home glowing from the activity. Two weeks ago I could not have done the class nor would I have been feeling good afterwards.

We often forget to be thankful when things are good in our lives. And when we’re sick or under the weather we feel impatient or unhappy not to be feeling good, wishing for things to be different than they are.

I’ve had so many struggles with feeling good over the years that I’ve learned to celebrate days when it feels good to move my body. And when I’m having an off day I look for ways to celebrate that as well. I might tell myself, “Ah, more time to read,” or spend time making photos of the world through the windows of our house.