Monday, February 7, 2011
Winter, beauty or beast?
A few months ago I stood on the opposite side of this hill and photographed the breathtakingly beautiful autumn leaves on these very trees, scarlet as a queen’s velvet cape, red as a new tricycle, yellow as Goldilock’s mane, golden as a ripe squash, orange as a goofy-grinning Jack-o-lantern. The chilled air crept under my jacket, slid up my sleeve and tapped my shoulder, a gentle reminder of winter’s impending wrath.
Yesterday, these trees were as astounding in their bareness as they were in their fall cloak. The hillside reminds me of the few weeks we have yet to climb to get over the hump, to reach the apex, to glimpse tiny buds at the tip of a branch, confirmation of the promise of new life, a renewal of my spirit that has been whitewashed by winter.
The unwrinkled snow blanket will give way to a lumpy emerald carpet plugged with sprigs of lilacs and an unruly patch of daffodils. The sky will retain its blue bonnet, and the billowy clouds will catch and release raindrops to enrich the earth and keep the seasons cycling.
I will peel off my layers, unburden my cares, inhale a tease of spring air, complain about rain and anxiously wrap myself in summer’s arms.
The white stuff is affecting my gray matter and making my mood blue. How about you?