blizzard

mid-afternoon and i'm still not sure if 'they' are right about this storm. certainly, more snow than we've seen this winter, but not a lot by new england standards. it's quiet out on the road - the plow has been back and forth once and some daring young people walked by a few hours ago, snowboards atop their heads. it's been snowing most of the day but winds are just now beginning to pick up and, as i write this, snow has begun to fly horizontally. perhaps this is the blizzard...

a good time for tea, and then a long winter's nap.

winter storm warning

a winter storm, predicted, anticipated. it sounds like a significant snowfall, with sustained high winds and dangerous road conditions. i hope 'they' are wrong. this winter, i have liked having just a little snow - enough for foot prints and animal tracks, enough to protect perennials in the garden, enough for holiday ambiance, and enough for children to sled. i am not looking forward to amounts that will reach the lower windows or snowbanks so high i have to inch my way out of the driveway. i do not want so much snow that it will remain until april.

but today, i must find my very serious heavy-duty boots, just in case 'they' are right.

january: hygge

of all the months of the year, january is my least favorite. it's cold. it's dark. and it's long. this january hasn't been as bad as others since snowstorms have been few and insignificant. but still i can't wait for this month to be over.

in truth, january never had a chance. i was dreading this month before it even started. so i've built in some activities and oddities to get me through these long weeks. i saved a certain book to read. i have a short, specific list of small projects to accomplish around the house. i have lunch and coffee dates with friends sprinkled throughout the month. for fun, i'm writing all my lists on round paper in a spiral fashion. i'm practicing daily something silly that i've wanted to try for a while now. i'm planning a summer garden. and i'm sitting myself down to a movie every week.

i read this month about hygge, an interesting danish cultural concept. it involves objects, traditions, and activities to brighten the dark winter months and promote well-being. in some odd way, i must have begun to intuit this mindset a few years ago, and now leave the clear christmas lights in the windows and on the mantle until at least march, light candles and oil lamps when darkness falls, and try to get together with friends and family regularly. maybe the lists, books, and projects just add to it a little. anyway, for mid-january, i think i'm doing all right - but i'll still be really glad when it's finally february.

a visitor

fresh tracks in the old snow. a deer perhaps. meandering, wandering, looking for food.

morning, uneventful

this frosty morning, shot from the dark kitchen to the bleak outside - through the uplifting images of a festooned candle, a globe of milkweed fluff, and a gingerbreadman cutter, still standing after his counterparts have all been packed away.

robins in winter

just ahead of the grey sky and the predicted snow flurries, robins come to the holly. it seems they are early this year, and there are dozens of them, all swooping in together, then scattering off to the maple, only to return for more berries. at this rate, they'll be none left for them for the rest of the winter. perhaps they know something that i don't.

winter wind

the backyard is a mess of pinecones, shaken from the white pines at the edge of the woods and scattered atop the crusty snow. yesterday, when the wind blew, they flew across the icy surface like so many tiny race cars. for now, they are parked and waiting. more wind this week will soon set them to racing again.

ah, january

finally, with mixed feelings, i think winter has arrived.

new year, new growth - already!

in this shiny new year, i continue to "grinch" my home and pack up christmas earlier than ever before. i set to gather up the holly, mostly dry and brittle, to take to the frozen compost pile, but stop when i notice this new growth, popping from the top of the cut stem. it seems a shame to not watch it, see what it turns into. it could be good diversion from the january cold and snow. so i keep it.