Brighten the Corner Where You Are

Thought for the day:  I prefer fall and winter, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape--- the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it; the whole story doesn't show. [Andrew Wyeth]

While I do appreciate the imagery of Wyeth's words, I don't think winter will ever be my favorite time of year. Yeah, sure, the landscape's bone structure does possess a certain stark beauty, I suppose. I'll give him that. Then again, some people probably consider a skeleton to be a thing of beauty, too. As for me?  I've always preferred a bit of meat on my bones.

When I look at the barren trees, stripped naked, and stretching their lonely branches against a leaden sky, I long to see them covered with leaves again. I miss the bazillion birds who flitted on every branch of every tree in our yard last summer, and I miss their cacophonous symphonies.

Yup, I guess I'm more inclined to second Robert Byrne's sentiments, who so eloquently opined, Winter is nature's way of saying, "Up yours."


There used to be a columnist for the Atlanta newspaper who called the first two months of the year Janu-weary and Febru-ugly, and that was a pretty darned good description of how most of us around here feel about winter. Our area is ultra rich in trees and greenery most of the year, but right about now, almost everything is brown. Or gray. How it makes me miss COLOR! You know? The kind of color that makes the heart sing.

A walk in the woods is so much different this time of year than it was six months ago, isn't it? The tangle of growth that impeded your progress then is just an impotent hollow mesh of dead branches now, and no deterrent at all. Now, a layer of dead leaves crunches softly underfoot, and with each step, the faint scent of rot awakens and rises from the ground ... whispering a promise of growth yet to come. There's a different sound in the woods, and a different feeling.  A sense of isolation. Invigoration.

Then there's the runny nose, too, and maybe rosy cheeks. I do love those rosy cheeks ...

Okay, so I'll admit it. It ain't all bad.

Especially here. We haven't had any real cold weather yet. And usually don't see much of it, anyway. We've had a couple early morning frosts, but the temperatures are still climbing into the sixties most days. The poor misguided forsythia bushes are peppered with blossoms, but that isn't unusual. Forsythia always seems to be confused about when it should and shouldn't bloom.

                                     But I saw something a couple weeks ago that astounded me.

BAZINGA!!!!

On January 10, I spotted a single daffodil blooming in our back yard. A daffodil! In January! What a glorious, glorious ... and unexpected ... sight. Others are also pushing through the soil, and I expect this first brave warrior (the point man) will be joined by the rest of his forces within the next couple of days. This is much too soon for him to show up, but there he was. This one defiant daffodil, providing a single splash of sunshine in the otherwise drab landscape of our back yard.

A beacon of hope. 

Of joy.

Oh, crap. Might as well face it. (sigh) Of delusion. (Poor thing.)

Every winter,

When the great sun has turned his face away,

And earth goes down into a vale of grief,

And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in sables,

Leaving her wedding-garland to decay--

Then leaps in spring to his returning kisses.

[Charles Kingsley]

We have a lot of winter left to go, but spring's already graced me with an early kiss on the cheek. It may not be spring yet, but a single yellow daffodil ... standing tall ... blooming defiantly in the midst of winter ... reminds my heart that spring will always return. Know what? If that little guy could sing, I'll betcha his song would be Brighten the Corner Where You Are.


The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all. [Walt Disney Productions]

          Even in the midst of winter, there is still plenty of beauty... and hope ... to be found.

                               Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.