Today there are definite signs:

gray sky and clouds
their core dark as sorrow

torrent rain driven aslant
against the barn’s side

swollen Yamhill Creek
furious with water

another V of geese
over the farm this morning

the plowed field soggy underfoot
fixed on distant May

a hawk hung in chill October air
like a narrow-winged thought.
~Ed Higgins, “Anticipating Winter” from Near Truth Only

Bleak winter weather is predicted to arrive nearly everywhere this week, with subzero temperatures, wind chills and blizzards.

I’m really not mentally ready for this coming cold, but an Arctic outflow waits for no one and certainly not for me.

The gulls, geese and swans somehow endure the chill, gleaning our neighbors’ muddy corn stalk fields, while overhead, eagles and hawks float on the wind currents, scanning for prey.

As I warm up in the house after barn chores, I turn the calendar pages, looking ahead to March. I know better than to try to rush time when each freezing day is precious and fleeting. I still try.

Like the birds sticking it out through winter here, the snowdrops are sprouting from under the leaf cover, as they do each January. They, like me, trust that spring is only around the corner.

So we endure what we must now with the knowledge of what comes next.