The winter’s sun spreads pale pastel colors across the sky. They are pearly and beautiful, echoing the chilled air as if colors have been muted by the frigid air. The clouds look like a thin, worn blanket frayed at the edges and have several holes that permit patches of brilliant blue to show. It’s a frigid 21 degrees. I am having trouble remembering a windier winter than this year. It has brought unusual cold. My snowdrops are frozen as they push up from the ground in small increments. The Hellebores are smarter, they have stayed underground. The Forsythia buds and Corlyopsis are tightly closed, unprepared to brave the cold. Despite my love of winter’s beauty, I am anxious for the burgeoning colors of spring. The good news is that it is getting lighter out earlier and staying light later in the evenings. Each infinitesimal moment of light is welcome. I keep thinking of Leonard Cohen’s brilliant song’s phrase, “There’s a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” We need that crack of warmth and light to bring in Spring.
Thanks to: Image by Achim Ruhnau from Pixabay
for the Snowdrop image
