It's not that all beautiful scenes have hidden elements of cruelty. Nevertheless, you can't help but think that today's winter sparkle is deceiving: it cajoles you, draws you out (all that sunshine, too!) and then boom! It shoots its arrow right through your heart. Broken ice-covered twigs, biting wind, frozen everything. Winter wonderland? Maybe, but I'm not about to go out and explore it. It's viciously cold.
Here are the usual vignettes from my (brief) morning farmette walk:
(Ice on branches... does the tree mind??)
(The kittens and their mama, grateful for the food and the sleeping bag over the buckets...)
Breakfast: we talk about the wonder of a working furnace and fruits on a plate...
Perhaps if I had had more hours today, I would have bundled up and headed out in search of that perfect winter scene. But it would have been a mistake: the paths and trails are thick with ice. Every surface, except for the well salted roads, is thick with ice.
Here's a compromise: roll down the window on the way to the grocery store and snap a quick pic of the field and forest across the road from us...
... And then again, on the way to pick up Snowdrop.
Remember Snowdrop? The girl who insists that she can manage moving from car to house without a jacket? True, she does walk briskly.
(The cats know to leave the bitter weather to us mortals. Here they are, all three, watching from safe and comfy positions.)
(Inside, we always start with a book and a snack. Lately, Snowdrop has been studying carefully the book she is otherwise afraid to have me read.)
In the end, she picks a book about an art festival.
It inspires her. I watch and listen as she paints. There is always a story with each painting.
(And a second one...)
Done!
In looking now at these paintings, in thinking back to when she sat there hitting the yellows and reds, creating orange trees, strawberry fields, it strikes me -- here's my color for the day!
Even later, I get a video call from my Chicago grandgirl. We talk about nothing in particular, but I can't take my eyes off her vibrant red dress and her sweet expressive face (her lightly furrowed brow is epic!).
Ah, the beauty of turning away from a winter wonderland and looking at all that striking burning color, right in your lap! Yellows, oranges, pinks, and finally -- red. Sort of like summer only without the mosquitoes.
Here are the usual vignettes from my (brief) morning farmette walk:
(Ice on branches... does the tree mind??)
(The kittens and their mama, grateful for the food and the sleeping bag over the buckets...)
Breakfast: we talk about the wonder of a working furnace and fruits on a plate...
Perhaps if I had had more hours today, I would have bundled up and headed out in search of that perfect winter scene. But it would have been a mistake: the paths and trails are thick with ice. Every surface, except for the well salted roads, is thick with ice.
Here's a compromise: roll down the window on the way to the grocery store and snap a quick pic of the field and forest across the road from us...
... And then again, on the way to pick up Snowdrop.
Remember Snowdrop? The girl who insists that she can manage moving from car to house without a jacket? True, she does walk briskly.
(The cats know to leave the bitter weather to us mortals. Here they are, all three, watching from safe and comfy positions.)
(Inside, we always start with a book and a snack. Lately, Snowdrop has been studying carefully the book she is otherwise afraid to have me read.)
In the end, she picks a book about an art festival.
It inspires her. I watch and listen as she paints. There is always a story with each painting.
(And a second one...)
Done!
In looking now at these paintings, in thinking back to when she sat there hitting the yellows and reds, creating orange trees, strawberry fields, it strikes me -- here's my color for the day!
Even later, I get a video call from my Chicago grandgirl. We talk about nothing in particular, but I can't take my eyes off her vibrant red dress and her sweet expressive face (her lightly furrowed brow is epic!).
Ah, the beauty of turning away from a winter wonderland and looking at all that striking burning color, right in your lap! Yellows, oranges, pinks, and finally -- red. Sort of like summer only without the mosquitoes.
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