Amazing how these short cold December days affect my imagination and the doddering brown lenses of my eyes...A fleeting ray of sunshine falls across the woodpile, and I make a mad dash for the camera to capture it. While folding towels in the laundry room, I hear a cardinal's cheery song in the big spruce in the garden and come to an abrupt halt, transfixed by the mere idea of RED. I watch the sun going down in flames over the frozen lake and the long inky blue shadows falling across the snow at sunset, and I trace their contours with an enthusiasm bordering on rapture.
While I wait for the light to turn again on December 21, I count the small elemental graces of these winter days and give thanks for each and every one - for the colors I encounter in the landscape and snow sparkling in the trees at dawn, for books and cups of tea, for clan and friendship, for fires burning brightly on the hearth and woodsmoke rising from the chimney. I count the days and nights until Yule and dream of light.
1 comment:
I'm so grateful to have your companionship (photos & words) in these cold mornings :) The movement into winter is difficult, but there is a charm to the aloneness that I am now realizing I love. What I am most glad for here is your ability to capture it, that gorgeousness, for me to reflect on with my morning coffee, before the day becomes too busy for me to notice. Thank you :)
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