March Smells Like Smoke and Fatigue
Observations
March looks like a continuation of winter, but it is different simultaneously. It is exceptionally frank: it exposes all that was invisible in wintertime under snow and ice. Adds more sun to make that all more noticeable. To be honest, mostly that’s about trash and shit. But also about snowdrops, sometimes.
I know places to see many of them yearly, even though stupid broads sell them illegally near supermarkets.
Seasonal photo hunting has already become a good tradition for me.
However, this tradition has a sad subtext. I first became interested in primroses in 2020, when travel to the nearest forest appeared to be the only available means. Year to year, these circumstances do not change for various reasons. They are worse every time. I love March, and, as a sign of gratitude, it tries to fuck me every year as hard as it can.
It’s harder to invent something original about the same flowers every time, so I’ve selected minimalism now.
But I’d like to have the ability to travel often and not have time to notice such little things under my legs. And have no idea about the difference between snowdrops and scillas. By the way, this is a scilla:
One of the Sakura trees confused months and flourished on March 5th. Sakuras didn’t interest me before 2020, either.
Almost all is still gray and leafless in March, but it’s easier to find brightness thanks to water liberated of ice. I’ve never seen so many herons at one moment before.
I know that I’m an asshole: I especially moved toward them to scare them and take photos on the flight. Although my camera ungodly lit them in the sun.
A swan flew because it wanted this, not because of me.
In general, I noticed fewer birds than in winter, but I have what to share. A hawfinch:
A greenfinch, more specifically, its round belly and fluffy ass.
A common linnet:
Two bullfinches stuck in the city. Not a couple, though; both are boys.
And it was impossible not to notice the awakening of all nature with snowdrops and birds.
As without cats? Our photo model walked willingly but with sad consequences: he found ticks even in a park, so we had to comb and bathe him.
A few stray photo models:
It would be an excellent frame, but as usual, my camera is at home in such moments, and I have only a weak smartphone.
Also, I became a donor for the first time. With my rare blood group, I have no excuse for this first time happening only now.
March sprayed with snow once, as without it?
And watered with cold rains.
Anyway, we could see more and more bright or clear sky.
And we could walk on the outskirts thanks to longer days and dry ground under our legs.
A mix of fog and smoke from surrounding homesteads wrapped the Earth with the onset of dusk.
March smells like smoke and fatigue. I think everybody noticed that these photos became irrelevant at the end of April, but I can’t keep up otherwise. I can’t keep up with anything and can’t recall such a hard period of work in addition to the constant horrible circumstances around me. I don’t want to turn my blog into a collection of whining, but I don’t have other places for this. With the awareness that everything could be worse and that many people would prefer my hard but civil life, like an unattainable dream.
At least I still can memorize the soft light of spring evenings.
…and walks with coffee.
Sun broke through the Sahara sandstorm.
This spring is much more optimistic than me. It is raging brightly like nothing wrong is happening around us.
A bumblebee sends you regards and invites you to nature.
If you don’t want to miss out on my new stories, you can subscribe to updates on my blog.
