February second is reckoned to be first day of spring in our part of Norway. February fourth winter came with snow, frost and total transformation of the scenery.
Outside my kitchen window the Birches, the Lilac tree and the Spirea hedge looked like a carefully made art of filigree. The only red being the reflex of the lamp and two candles.
Since January first I have fetched Forsythia branches from the garden and driven them to bloom indoors.
The first ones took two weeks, now four days will be enough.
In January I also start buying Primroses, four per week. They'll then fall down and are being replanted outdoors. Often they will bloom a second time in May.
The flowers make my kitchen table look like an immense firework of spring forces.
I drink tap water filled and chilled on empty Martini bottles in the fridge. While listening to The Spring by Edvard Grieg I am living happily in the sudden winter, with a certain knowledge of the joys that is to come.
For the Valentiners:
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory -
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts,
when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
Percy Bysshe Shelley