Tag Archives: sun


wind-05.jpgIt’s the first day of spring, and as the howling “wintry mix” splats against my windows, I can still somehow feel the first tiny tendrils of life returning. This morning, walking around, I could feel the hint of warmth on the breeze, at least until the gale turned around and got cold. I can’t help thinking of the old fable of the competition between the wind and the sun, where they fought over who could get the coat off a man soonest. The wind tried to blow it off, but the man pulled it tighter and tighter around himself. The sun shone down, and the man took off his coat to walk in his shirtsleeves.

The moral of the fable was that kind words and warmth win over bluster and force.

Well, sometimes that’s true.  I wish the weather would figure that out…

I’m gorging on books while I wait for the greenery, filling my head with short stories and novels and poetry and music, topping up my creative juices with learning new tunes on my Uke, doing my various other weird and wonderful creative things. I was lucky enough to spend my past weekend hearing good music, eating good food, and laughing with people I care about. I’m filling up my brain, pushing it til it’s full and writing will spill out.

I’m hoping that, like the seeds underground, the soaking I’m doing will lead to explosive growth.

When spring finally gets here, that is…


Why is it they call it the blues?

It should really be the greys. Blue is a pretty colour. Grey is, well, grey. Like black, but without the enthusiasm.  Or white, but in a slovenly way.

Although, truth be told, both colours get  a unfairly rough go.  Today, for example, outside my window, fog is rolling by.  It’s grey. Again. Day 15 or more. Minute by minute, the colour changes as the fog swirls, lifts, re-descends. Normally, it would be beautiful. Today, it is merely tedious. But still charming in its own right. I feel enclosed in wool swaddling today – my visual field outside the window is only a few feet at times, and it makes me feel cozy. If a bit damp around the edges. Watching it lighten bit by bit as the day burns off the fog is exciting, like unwrapping a present.  Will we see blue sky today?

But grey is never invigorating.  Not like blue – sky blue or royal blue or even navy blue, teal or indigo or baby blue. Van Gogh’s blues shout from his paintings, Monet’s whisper seductively, Maude Lewis’ sing happily. It seems too varied a colour to be associated with depression. Yet it is.

And blues music is just too much fun to be depressing – the beat throbbing onwards, the growly sax, the gravelly voices and hearty tones. It’s hard to listen to it and be depressed.

People with depression often speak of how the world bleaches out. Colours become muted, like my view through the fog. A friend of mine who suffered for years with intractable depression finally received a novel treatment, involving direct brain stimulation.  She was finally able to surface, and her comment was that suddenly, the greys had receded and, as in the Wizard of Oz, she had stepped into a Technicolor world again.

So, as we here in the Maritimes look forward to another  weekend of greys, perhaps it’s time to get on with some blues – groove with sunshiny and bluesy music, paint with colours and  play. And tap our heels together and wish for the sun.