February is the shortest sister, who reveals the tallest truths. She is the forsaken, lovelorn link between what was and what may be.
She may look like less, but she will never be more. She prefers to expose what hides in summer’s shadows than to impress with leafy grandeur.
She won’t be bothered with producing figs to entice or dazzle. Those juicy baubles that dangle in gusty monsoons will come soon enough.
She stands and waits outside your door to tell it to you straight: “I am the bare bridge from January to March. I keep the world spinning forward.”
Mark Johnson Stories 
I LOVE your reflection on February! Bridges are one of our most crucial elements of infrastructure, the transition getting us from here to there; sometimes awkward, uncomfortable, unknown, perfectly spanned or a simple log over a raging river, paved and lined or rutted as an old wagon trail. But we get no where if we don’t embrace February thrown to us like an empty trapeze, so we grab on with both hands and swing towards March. 🙂
Sent from my iPhone
Sent from my iPhone
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Thank you, Carolyn! Thrown to us like an empty trapeze … I love that too!
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