I came to think about this poem by Robert Burns Wilson - It is in winter that we long for spring - as I looked out on the beautiful sky this morning. We are slowly edging our way towards spring here in the north, but it is still a long way away. Like so many Norwegians I have a love/hate relationship to the winter. I love the changing seasons in this country. I love the variety of it. And I actually find the best time of the year the beginning og autumn, when you can notice that the light is fading and the darkness is coming back.
We have had very little snow in the west of Norway this winter. Other parts of the country is drowning in it, though. January has been extremly dry. No snow and no rain for weeks, just this cold easternly wind that has lasted throughout january. Now it is february 1, and I know that this can be a really cold month. When I looked out at the beautiful sky this morning, I thought about the fact that spring can be a long way of yet, and that it is in winter that we long for spring...
It is in Winter that we dream of spring..
IT is in Winter that we dream of Spring;
|For all the barren bleakness and the cold,|
|The longing fancy sees the frozen mould|
|Decked with sweet blossoming.|
|Though all the birds be silent,—though|
|The fettered stream’s soft voice be still,|
|And on the leafless bough the snow|
|Be rested, marble-like and chill,—|
|Yet will the fancy build, from these,|
|The transient but well-pleasing dream|
|Of leaf and bloom among the trees,|
|And sunlight glancing on the stream.|
|Though, to the eye, the joyless landscape yields|
|No faintest sign to which the hope might cling,—|
|Amidst the pallid desert of the fields,—|
| It is in Winter that we dream of Spring.|
Robert Burns Wilson