It
has been a real winter's day. The winds have, at times, moaned and
howled in the treetops--playing castanets with the bare branches. Then,
at times, they have been the reed section of the orchestra tuning up
for the concert to follow--oboes, flutes, maybe even a little
clarinet--wind instruments indeed.
The snow has been nearly constant. Flurries at times, wind dancers. Huge flakes at times,
quickly accumulating, building a picturesque vista of drifts, white
posts, green-blanketed pines, white shrub "mounds," earth bound snow
clouds in the minutes of white outs that isolate me even further from
the humanity of Morrow County. Wind and snow the architects of a
winter's beauty.
The birds of the air have been coming in flurries
themselves. My favorite winter visitor--the junco--seems ubiquitous.
Slate gray and white, they were created for winters. Spooked by who
knows what, they scatter momentarily showing off their white "v" tail
feathers. Sparrows, too, are everywhere from the small field sparrow to
the mid-sized song sparrow (I wonder if his winter song is as melodious
as his spring and summer symphony?), to the "mounstous" white capped.
Chickadees and titmice are zooming in and out--always the pick-up food
denizens of the trees. It's not as if they are timid--they fill the
winter air with their scoldings. Mourning doves too are here, mingling
their coos with the windsong. Blue jays drop by--raucous as ever,
acting as if the place is theirs. The cardinals--the reason, I think,
God created winter snows--add their majesty to the scene. They must
know that they are beauties--red rubies on the winter landscape.
I
am delighted with the snowfall--deep and lustrous--covering the roots of
all my flowers in a warm blanket to shield them from the coldest day of
the year so far--lingering on Tuesday's landscape. Minus seventeen
they say, out here in the country. Deeper snow, deeper. I can't help
but anticipate, visualize, the first snow crocus in less than two months
time--a breath when you consider two months in light of a timeless
eternity. I know exactly where to look for them. Deeper snow, deeper.
The beauty of a winter's day. And is it not true that the memories of
the winter times in our lives can be so lovely in the light of passing
time--in the beauty that He has revealed to us over time of their
necessity in our understanding of His love and wisdom? Yes, Lord,
deeper snow, deeper. How beautiful is each day that you bring our way.
Give us eyes--and hearts--to embrace in gratitude the winters of our
lives.
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