In the February of my mind, it is always winter, a timeless place. The days blur together with nothing to differentiate them. Whether it is near the start or end of the month, it doesn’t matter. It is always just February, wintry February. Days and nights of blizzards, or clear blue days with nights of brilliant stars, with a brutal cold seemingly out of space.
All just like the February we have been living through lo these past 28 days.
In Dante’s Inferno, when Dante finally gets to the center of hell, he finds it to be frozen, ice covered. In Hell, it must always be February.
But for us, Spring is only a forced march away.
copyright 2015 Magnus Incognito