Yesterday morning was such a gift, a spring morning in the
midst of winter. The earth was wet from overnight rains, the air was mild with
a gusty breeze. The sky was a dance between purple cloud and golden sun. The
usually soft, muted colors of winter became more saturated, the moss like jewels,
the clinging oak leaves like amber stained glass.
Winter is not all gray. The
cedar trees are heavy with blue fragrant berries and the meadows are peppered
with red rosehips, golden grasses, and plum red berries from the Buckbrush
(Coralberry). I collected several bunches from these plants to make winter arrangements.
The soft red, green, and blue make a subtle statement that’s a little more
rustic than Christmas’s traditional red and green, gold and silver.
Yesterday’s
wind blew in a cold front and a blanket of cloud cover and has only gotten
stronger since. The air has regained its winter chill and the wind howls a
solemn tune as the days shorten and winter solstice nears. The moon is almost
new and the nights get darker. This December, the new moon lands on winter
solstice. It will be a long, dark night indeed, a bonfire night to be sure.
Family, friends, and the cheer and the magic of the holidays are the light of
winter. So a fire blazes in the hearth and I work away at my many Christmas
cards. Card boxes, pens, stamps, and stacks litter my table as I fold
well wishes of peace and happiness into envelopes for those near and far.
