The Sun

It has been almost two months.  Two months with no sunshine to hit the face or warm the bones.  On clear days I see the sun hitting the mountain tops and just recently a few of the houses that rest higher up.  I am happy for these lucky souls who now have a few minutes each day to bask in the blazing warmth coming in their windows, but if I'm totally honest with myself, my face may be a bit green.

 

 I have a geranium cutting from a sweet neighbor.  It is nestled in water, sitting in a large colorful vase my daughter Jaime painted for me.  I have it in the kitchen window to give it as much light as possible since the sun stubbornly sits so far south and refuses to peek over the mountains.  I have been babying it all winter, filling the water faithfully, plucking off dead brown leaves,  and even leaving the kitchen light on above it during the dark days and nights.  It looks sick.  The leaves, once full and dark green are now a light green-yellow color; each sparsely placed and strangely turned to face the window. 

 

But it is not dead.  There is actually a small lone bright-red flowering shoot awkwardly coming off the stem.  I can't wait to see how it responds after those first few days when the sun peeks over the mountains for a couple of minutes .

I really want it to make it. 

 

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