february. sluggish and cold. a blizzard with an accompanying snow day. the beginning of a new house renovation project. demo and planning. too much driving on snow-covered and slippery roads. hours of repetitive shoveling. frozen pantlegs and then once inside, wet pantlegs. a pile of baby quilts, finished and folded. wonderful long cozy hours in the studio cutting squares for quilts and watching mad men. middle of the week chili night with our neighbors that made it feel like a weekend on wednesday. my first haircut in 1o months. a wonderful book i forgot i had ordered, arrived. and now tom is playing the guitar and singing, ending the week perfectly. it's been a good week.

my studio sits on the sidewalk. it's a closeness to the street that i love. the window openings are where people walk by with such closeness that it makes me feel i could momentarily drift into their lives. and there are seasonal differences to how they pass the windows. in the winter people are hunched, often with their heads down, pushing themselves forcibly towards a destination. their shape is different. the pace is quick with a determined and hurried intent. but in the spring, summer and fall, people have a more open stance. they meet the day. there is an upright carriage and less desperate pace. some may walk with the same speed, but people look in to the day, face it, let it brush against their skin. the winter stance seems to be hiding, protecting, folding oneself away. and that isn't needed in the warmer months.
so i'll watch the neighbors pass my windows with a tightened gait and discern the coming of warmer days as i sense the loosening of the steps that breeze past.