A strange year to be sure

 

After nearly a year of strikes, I find my life is in another odd place I don't feel that I fully belong. I look back on my old life with such longing knowing that it is gone and all I have is now and whatever is still to come. It's strange to be floating around though, not sure what is missing, what I'm truly longing for. Somedays I'm so content and others I'm lost. Doing the things I thought I should in life haven't paid off and it really kills ambition for most things. 

Almost spring.

 Not quite spring, but the beginnings. Bulges of buds are starting, bulbs have sprung from the ground, not quite comfortable in my coat but not ready to go without it. But I am depressed. The world seems hell bent on destruction and unkindness. I am lonely but don't want to talk to people. I hope the spring brings a better outlook. I take these excursions and often talking with trees and shrubs is more helpful than you would think, but today I feel like going back to bed.