GREY AND GREEN IN FEBRUARY 2024
by contemplativeinquiry
A familiar sight, in a familiar place. I’ve been living in Gloucester for two years now. This is the first February since 2019 in my personal life that I might call ‘normal’. The Covid-19 pandemic and relocations dominated the February’s of 2020-2023. Hyper-vigilant states aren’t such a feature for me in February 2024. My reduced anxiety has allowed a certain laziness and I have found it welcome.
Contemplating the image above, I greet these winter-skeletal trees as friends, today part of my internalised psychic territory. On this occasion, a 9 February walk, I call the afternoon ‘grey’ because of my initial response to the sky. The label has meaning for me as a first impression though it does over-generalise. Looking more closely, I find the sky turbulent and mixed. White hides the afternoon sun. There are indications of movement and change, and hints of blue. A slender branch yearns upwards to the hidden sun, pursuing fresh life and growth. That sun has moved well beyond midwinter. It may not yet be spring, but the days are longer and at times I experience a real warmth.
Moving on and now looking downwards, I discover a different world. Here there is evidence of both sunlight and shadow on the path. Mud and the puddles from refreshing rain too, with vivid green grass beside on the verges..
But the the most obviously verdant signs of annual regeneration in February 2024 are in the undergrowth beside the path. Here, in the picture below, is a feast of green freshness. New-appearing nettles are strongly present. They may sting to protect themselves yet they also nourish and heal. They have enriched our lives in many ways for a very long time. When I was ill with respiratory problems at times in 2021 and 2022 I valued them as a tea. I was pleased to meet the rising generation on my walk.
My memory of February 2024 will feature the colours grey and green as strong markers of this intermediate season. A blessing our lives, and a blessing on the land!
Contemplative Inquiry 
As always our spring signs are further behind up here in west coast Scotland, the snowdrops only just flowering now. But an uncharacteristically warm end January brought toads and frogs prematurely out of hibernation and many didn’t survive. Cool but bright mornings show clouds of flies already, and the wet suits the bog myrtle, one of my favourite plants here – the aroma in summer is fabulous. But for now the trees still drip with lichen although it’s past its best and buds on some trees are fattening. The catkins have now dropped and I’m hopeful of a good hazelnut crop after 2023 poor one despite Acorns and Mast being high last autumn. Our red squirrels only visit if we have the nuts! Nettles will be a while yet, I usually can’t harvest until April. All in all being a winter person I don’t mind this lingering dark and cold… colours for now are maroon (the budding birch hills) and rust (last of the bracken) with plenty of smoke skies and slate silhouettes. More description than contemplation – I don’t have your nuance.
Thanks for this comment -and your lovely description of what’s happening in west coast Scotland. You bring it alive for me.
Thank you again for these inspiring thoughts and beautiful pictures!
Thanks Raymond. Appreciations for your comment!
I’ve seen garlic, bluebells and lords & ladies putting up leaves, it’s a lovely moment in the year. And hurrah for not being hypervigilant, it’s an exhausting state and knocks the joy out of life.
Thanks for this comment Nimue. It is a lovely moment in the year. I like your description of hypervigilance.