The days are short, / The sun a spark
Hung thin between / The dark and dark.
Fat snowy footsteps / Track the floor,
And parkas pile up / Near the door.
The river is / A frozen place
Held still beneath / The trees' black lace.
The sky is low. / The wind is gray.
The radiator / Purrs all day.
― John Updike, A Child's Calendar
It is growing cold. Winter is putting footsteps in the meadow. What whiteness boasts that sun that comes into this wood! One would say milk-colored maidens are dancing on the petals of orchids. How coldly burns our sun! One would say its rays of light are shards of snow, one imagines the sun lives upon a snow crested peak on this day. One would say she is a woman who wears a gown of winter frost that blinds the eyes. Helplessness has weakened me. Wandering has wearied my legs.
― Roman Payne
Image shows a winter-bare tree standing in a field of snow-draped goldenrod and other native vegetation, their wild beauty unbowed by harsh winds or icy cold. I took the photo on a walk around the Civic Recreation Complex in Whitby, Ontario. Are you still going out and about despite the inclement weather? Or have you decided to cocoon at home until spring returns? Leave a comment below to tell us how you're handling January.
Photo © FieldandGarden.com. All rights reserved.
