A new month starts. Another snow storm rolls in. Tomorrow is Groundhog’s day. If he sees his shadow,it means six more weeks of winter. What does it mean if he can’t dig his way out of his tunnel? Thursday is the lunar new year. The year of the rabbit. Will this year be a better year, particularly as we invoke the rabbit in the childhood wish for luck at the beginning of each month? Friday is National Wear Red Day, to fight heart disease in women.

Besides the hearts damaged by disease, there are also hearts weary from the weather. As I think about the coming month and the record setting snow we had in January, I remember the great song, February, by Dar Williams:

First we forgot where we’d planted those bulbs last year, 
Then we forgot that we’d planted at all, 
Then we forgot what plants are altogether, 
and I blamed you for my freezing and forgetting and 
The nights were long and cold and scary, 
Can we live through February? 
...
And then the snow, 
And then the snow came, we were always out shoveling, 
And wed drop to sleep exhausted, 
Then wed wake up, and its snowing. 

It is a beautiful song, not only about the cold weather, but the cold that can seep into relationships. Later in the song, as a thaw comes, both literally and figuratively, and they see an early flower of spring.

You stopped and pointed and you said, "That’s a crocus," 
And I said, "What’s a crocus?" and you said, "It’s a flower," 
I tried to remember, but I said, "What’s a flower?" 
You said, "I still love you." 

I don’t know if the groundhog will see his shadow tomorrow. I don’t know if we will have six more weeks of winter. I’m not even sure how I will make it through six more weeks of winter. But I do know that there is beauty waiting to break forth once winter loosens its icy grip, and if we remember to tell our loved ones that we love them, the image of the long awaited first crocus can sustain us.