The winter’s first snow inspired me to pack away the Christmas decorations, and enjoy the reality that winter will here for quite a while. They came down with relative ease. Plunging temperatures also limited any excursions that would have been good excuses to put off the inevitable dismantling of our modest displays.
A few reminders of Christmas were not ready to go: the poinsettia and Christmas cactus still thrive because I read the directions for proper care.
Too Soon to be Packed Away
I couldn’t pack away my snowman; we still face eleven wintry weeks before spring sunshine prompts me to tuck him away. My polar bears remind me, we could be in colder places, and I don’t have to dive through icy waters for dinner!
I Don’t Have to Fish for Dinner
With Christmas packed up, I can concentrate on enjoying winter – for a spell. Winter in Maryland is not always colder than in Texas. But it is more persistent and penetrating. Cold damp goes deep!
Nevertheless, I agree with Andrew Wyeth up to a point:
I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape — the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.
However, as inspiring winter landscapes may be, fondness will fade as I realize –again — what’s really beneath is often black ice. And when a cold or flu robs me of any semblance of charm, I may not be so cheerfully content in coming weeks.
But today . . . I’ll embrace the chill on a day of peace and quiet re-ordering.
One of my current pet theories is that the winter is a kind of evangelist, more subtle than Billy Graham, of course, but of the same stuff. ~Shirely Ann Grau
Winter’s Red Bird