The few wet flakes that fell on Tuesday hardly constituted a snowfall, but it was awfully pretty watching it come down. Morning snow is a gift of beauty, particularly when enjoyed from the inside a cozy home with a mug of tea to hand. The pansies have been torn and shredded by the wind and rain, but their colour is a welcome note in all the grey outside.
Just this morning, without snow, and surprisingly, without rain, I read a poem by Malcolm Guite, an Anglican priest in the UK, that speaks, in his own words, "to those of us who crave the light and are naturally, and seasonally, cast down by the darkness and drench of winter, those of us for whom there is a hidden pact between the outer and inner weather." Here is his sonnet - and I confess to tears pricking my eyes as I read and remembered my own winters of the soul.
These bleak and freezing seasons may mean
When they are memory. In time to come
When we speak truth, then they will have their place,
Telling the story of our journey home,
Through dark December and stark January
With all its disappointments through the
and dreariness of frozen February,
When even breathing seemed unwelcome work.
Because through all of these we held together,
Because we shunned the impulse to let go,
Because we hunkered down through our dark
And trusted to the soil beneath the snow,
Slowly, slowly, turning a cold key
Spring will unlock our hearts and set us free.
In the dark mornings it's so lovely to turn on the twinkle lights around the window. I mentioned to Tim that I was more reluctant to use these mini lights than the larger plug-in variety because of the consumption of batteries. It's expensive and not very eco-friendly to replace them.
So my handy husband did some investigating and placed an online order, and in not very long at all, a small package arrived. Another 10 minutes of fiddling and voila! the lights are now electric. Amazing! He bought enough of the gadgets to do all of our LED twinkle light strings, but this is the only one he's gotten to. Such a smart man!
Although we've had enormous amounts of rain lately, around 8 pm on the past two evenings, there has been a cessation of water, and we've taken walks in the dark. It's squishy underfoot in the woods, with streams of water running down the sloping paths, but the air is so fresh and cool. Along the streets, light streams from houses and I can see bookcases and pictures on the walls, and all the cozy things that make a home. I wish and hope that there is much love behind the windows I see.
In the dark, after we climbed the little hill to our home and saw our own home lights glowing, I crouched to pick a little bouquet of snowdrops from the patch underneath the holly bush. They are such pretty flowers and their season is almost done.
It's time now to get on with my day, which involves teaching three classes, two Spanish and one Foods. New friends are coming for dinner tonight, and I hope the rest of the weekend holds some time for creativity and reading and a good long walk or two.
Happy weekend, my friends!