Lingering Winter

First there was snow, then a few days of milder temperatures  and even a brief maple syrup run in the woods of Lanark.  Now we are back in the lap of winter, earlier seasonal offerings having reinvented themselves as bitter winds, biting cold and ice in unexpected places. The world beyond the windows is a handsome place indeed this morning, but it is cold and slippery "out there", and walking is downright treacherous.

In the absence of good conditions for pottering about outside, this is a fine day for oceans of tea, stacks of art and photography books and wispy Japanese flute music on the CD player, for indoor photography exercises, getting out pencils, pens and brushes and trying to capture the day in broad and sweeping strokes.

Teapots in shades of turquoise and slate blue, little porcelain cups, fans and rice paper calligraphies, wood and old linen all have something to say, and they almost seem to be tucking themselves into fetching arrangements in the early sun. The camera's eye loves everything it lights upon at the beginning of day, and it beguiles the old hen holding it with the tantalizing possibilities inherent in a new macro lens.

Perhaps a series of ensos, each drawn in a single flowing movement? Whether or not the day's efforts embrace the "Way of the Brush" (筆禅道), holding vitality and eternal experience in their curves, they will surely hold snow and lingering winter.