Wednesday

Winter



Finally, winter! A week's worth of cold and snow has convinced me of it's arrival, however late it may be.

Uneasy as I may have been with the high temperatures of this past month I have, mostly, enjoyed them all the same. I say mostly because during the last trip I took to Charlotte several weeks ago I saw a group of cherry trees in bloom.  The feelings I had on that sighting were not ones I wish to describe on this day's blog so I will not.  Suffice to say they were intense and have remained present even in the midst of the hat-less, coat-less and glove-less pleasures of these unseasonably warm days.

But this morning the trees and the ground beneath them have a fine misting of snow.  I'll be looking to bundle up a bit when I go out.  Not that we have much of a need for serious bundling in our modern world, moving as we do from warm house to warm car to warm shops and warm workplaces.  The parking lot remains mostly all that's left out of our biospheric modern life.  And that thought will lure me outside for a walk under the snow dusted trees of this Bethel forest.

The landscape is very pretty from the inside of a passing car but I'm needing more today.  Needing more because I know the view from the window holds only one sense of the day.  The smell of snow is not present on this side of the glass.  A possible crunch beneath my feet and the sharp and sudden bite of small winds will not be mine today if I stay inside.

I could go outside and stand on the porch for the taste of a bit of wind blown snow.  Some days that must do and will.  But today it is not a solo but rather a symphony of senses I need.  I need to be out of the biosphere.  I need the wholeness of the earth. I need the direct experience of winter. And because I'm still fortunate enough to have the opportunity, I think I'll take it.