A glorious weekend settled in here at the ranch, confirming my theory that everything’s better with frosting. So it was my delight to wake up and find that on Saturday morning everything was frosted.
This is my favorite winter weather phenomenon, but with the unseasonably warm temperatures we’ve been enjoying I haven’t seen much of it lately. So on Saturday I couldn’t wait to get out in it. I was like a kid on Christmas, hurrying up with my chores, eating my breakfast fast, chugging down my coffee and changing out of my stretchy pants as soon as I jumped out of bed…all very unlikely activities for a lazy Saturday woman like me.
But I couldn’t help it, I went to bed in a land of gold and brown and woke up to a winter wonderland outside my window.
So I had to get out there and become that kid in the beanie with the ball on the top that you see in those classic winter paintings in museums. I felt like that kid. I looked like that kid.
I was that kid.
So I had to get a little closer, to touch it, notice its sparkle, to exist in it…
kick it off of the grass, let it fall on my head, get down close,
brush it off of the horses’ backs, see it on the cat’s whiskers,
the dogs’ noses.
Oh, it’s amazing what a little coating of white can do to a landscape. It turns an ordinary scene into a winter fairytale. It puts a little magic in the old red barn,
softening its rusty nails
and stray wires.
The old boards and windows welcome those out in this fog to peek in and explore…
come in and stay warm.
And the landscape turns mysterious as I climb to the top of the nearest hill to catch a glimpse of our new world, only to be welcomed with a limited view.
A view that turns me curious and sends me over the next hill and then the next to see what might be there…as if overnight, given the dark and the fog, the rocks took their chance to move and switch places,
the trees held hands and grew taller,
the dry brown flowers bloomed,
and the wire fences repaired themselves.
I couldn’t help it, I kept walking, because anything is possible in this kind of quiet, in this kind of weather. It’s a new season! And it could last for weeks, for days, or only a few hours. So I couldn’t wait. I needed to see what the bittersweet looked like coated in white…
And if the bull berries looked just as delicious…
And as I walked along the pink road that gently rolled into the low hanging cloud I was living under I held my breath and disappeared into the quiet calm.
With frost hanging on my eyelashes, coating the hair that had escaped from my wool cap, I let out a sigh and wished, just for a moment, that the sun would wait…
Because there was so much more to see over that hill, so much quiet to take in, so many ordinary things wearing new clothes and looking fabulous…and I wanted to stay out there and forever live in that painting.
A painting that with the warmth of the sun,
was sure to sparkle and shine, a contrast of vibrant blue and white and beautiful…
only to melt away,
leaving us waiting for winter’s the next inspiration…