Pure Wisconsin

Spring has been slow to arrive this winter.  But the grass beneath buried snow surprisingly has maintained some of its greenness and only part of the lawn had died from the cold.  How is that possible?  I don't ask why anymore.  Why am I here in this cold forsaken place, when there are opportunities for year round warm weather.  Even the brown and white contrast of bare earth and snow feels like home these days.  No different than the stark brown dirt of the desert in my past life.
The pureness of nature in Wisconsin is the same pureness I find in my daughters' spirit.  When I feel melancholy on occasion, the land here gives me solace.  Not confusion like the traffic of California highways.  I use to have to drive for hours in circle around the 405 and 55 to find my way always to the open quiet beach and sunset.  Here, the quiet is in my backyard.  In being with my daughters, who seem so happy despite the commotion that's been brought into their lives.  They derive their strength from their home, rooted and durable.