A Wintery Mix

Sunday, January 20, 2019

After a weeklong string of days with freezing temperatures and icy rain, the sun appeared and offered a new weather cycle, this time a captivating melt that glistened into highlights on tree branches and leaves. Everywhere, softening ice coatings began to drip. On heavy chains dangling from rooftops, melt streamed down still-frozen links.

“Spring feels near,” neighbors said to one another, nodding, “It’s still gloomy, yet much warmer.” An icy passage through which I lead my horses to and from a neighbor’s pasture began melting while a walkway nearest the pasture remained frozen, unsafe without cleats.

Last night, from my bed and through a window, I could see new snow falling. Its early drops were light suggesting snow that quickly disappears. Gradually, despite the warmer weather, and beyond my window, those drops thickened and began looking like they could stack and stick.

Before dawn I stepped outside to assess the situation. Some snow had accumulated and that which still fell appeared vigorous and strikingly beautiful. I breathed deeply the damp freshness and felt a sudden urge to go to my horses. They’d be in their loafing shed, and I wanted to be near them, warmed by their winter fuzziness, scenting their heat.

It’s a mystery that what’s very difficult, requiring large amounts of energy and effort, might have great drawing power. Big snows for example, at least, force strapping-on of cleats, and at worst need shoveling and snow-blowing. And horses! Aside from beauty and fun, they’re large, needy, expensive responsibilities.

Yet, I’m standing outside dreaming of walking forward, straight into a silent whiteness and clear out to where the horses (I like to think) await me. It’s as if a special purity and warmth draw me onward and perhaps toward genuine solace. Simply put, that’s how it is and I don’t know why.

Dear Readers, have a wonderful day, Diana.