The Hellebores are out and blooming. Earlier in the week I was able to sit outside and admire them, able to pretend that spring was truly just around the corner. By Friday there was a turnabout, reminding one more of Mother Goose: "The North Wind doth blow, and we shall have snow". It did flurry most of Friday morning, with no lasting effect. It is possible I might have wished otherwise, that I may have found a blanket of white charming, in which case I might have run out to take a prettier picture. My fellow Knoxvillians may be happier with the security of browns and the safety of dry roads.
Of course the hellebores are not the only signs that spring will in fact spring-forth. There are buds on the forsythia and a medley of green shoots are forcing their heads up through the dirt, with promise of various spring bulbs to follow. They add a lovely counterpoint to the fading pink blossoms cast off from the camellias, which are nearing the end of their blooming season after nearly two months of abundant frivolity.
And I too am feeling brighter, and nearly ready to leap forward. Upon the recommendation of a friend I booked an appointment at a Salt Spa, and have had two treatments. After the first, I was able to breathe more deeply than I had had been possible since sometime in mid December, and although I still have a remnant of my cough it is in retreat. Two treatments and my sinuses remain clearer, my breathing easier, and not surprisingly my thoughts perhaps more coherent. It may be coincidence, but I am inclined to say the treatments help. Besides, as I rationalized before beginning, how could scheduled meditative time be a bad thing, even if there were no other benefit. Given that I had been unable to breathe easily enough to meditate before attending the spa, I am happy for the win.