Just hibernating during this very snowy winter. Another foot of snow last night had Mr O and I getting our aerobic exercise as we shoveled out…Still I can’t help but find it beautiful and it was warm enough to enjoy being outside. Later some ibuprofen and a glass of wine did wonders for sore muscles…
There is a reason that so many poems have been written about snow…It is hard to describe so well in any other way…
Snow
Billy Collins
I cannot help noticing how this slow Monk solo
seems to go somehow
with the snow
that is coming down this morning,
*
how the notes and the spaces accompany
its easy falling
on the geometry of the ground,
on the flagstone path,
the slanted roof,
and the angles of the split-rail fence
*
as if he had imagined a winter scene
as he sat at the piano
late one night at the Five Spot
playing “Ruby, My Dear.”
*
Then again, it’s the kind of song
that would go easily with rain
or a tumult of leaves,
*
and for that matter it’s a snow
that could attend
an adagio for strings,
the best of the Ronettes,
or George Thorogood and the Destroyers.
*
It falls so indifferently
into the spacious white parlor of the world,
if I were sitting here reading
*
in silence,
reading the morning paper
pr reading Being and Nothingness,
not even letting the spoon
touch the inside of the cup,
I have a feeling
the snow would even go perfectly with that.
After reading this poem I had to discover Thelonious Monk playing “Ruby, My Dear”. It is as dreamy as the falling snow…
We have been having some rain and warmish weather...I would rather have the snow...
...and the first time I felt like taking photos in a long time...Join me...
...the sky looks as grey as the land...
Kaja joins us but hates the camera...
The trail goes over several bridges...
And crosses a dam...
The brook is incredibly loud ...
The beech tree leaves remain golden on the branches...
I find hearts...
Halfway around...
Looking back towards the dam...
Your life is in your own hands...
The north side of the tree...
and back where I started...
My favorite walk doesn't take very long...but it does restore me...
My word for 2010 is Restore...
...most of the textile mills they were built for no longer exist or are not in use...
...who must still find it hard to eat this time of year...
These pictures were taken from the car again...
Tinkerbell enjoyed the warmer weather too...
To make a perfect winter day like this,
You must have a
clear, sparkling air,
With a sheen from the snow,
Little or no wind;
And the warmth must come directly from the sun.
It must not be a
thawing warmth.
The tension of nature must not be relaxed.
The earth
must be resonant of bare,
And you hear the lisping tinkle of chickadees
From time to time
And the unrelenting steel-cold scream of a jay,
Unmelted, That never flows into a song, A sort of wintry trumpet, screaming
cold;
Hard, tense, frozen music,
Like the winter sky itself;
In the
blue livery of winter's band.Henry David Thoreau
