So here it is, another New Year’s Eve gone by. I must admit that the Christmas tree is losing its charm as it drops needles at an amazing rate. Those inflatable Santas, so charming a few weeks ago, slump in the snow like dirty laundry. Still, Christmas memories remain with us and will carry us through a few snowstorms.
And let’s remember this. “The darkest evening of the year” has come and gone at last and our half of the planet tilts almost imperceptibly toward the light. Only three more months, really, until we can see the word “April” on the calendar and hunt for new buds on the trees. But for right now, here in New Hampshire, it’s a world in monochrome, at least for today. An unremitting gray sky; not a trace of blue to be seen. Aging snow, so enchanting when it first blanketed the ground, now receding back from dormant patches of green. Trees stripped down to lacy beauty, their few rusty oak leaves, shriveled and sad, cling to their branches. Where can I find color in the dead of winter?
Well, there is the crimson cardinal perching on the feeder outside the window. And the sunset that exploded in the West two evenings ago just before dark, piling rosy pink clouds halfway up the sky. And the Christmas lights I just can’t bear to take down quite yet. But even better is the unexpected call from my neighbor to warn me about this morning’s black ice, nearly invisible, that might trip me. Then there is the eager response of an old friend to “How about lunch at the Sczhuan House?” And a visit from my young friends across the street who pop in for a piano lesson and some cookie baking. And a late Christmas present from my sister, a book I just can’t wait to devour. Now there is some color, warm and vivid enough to carry me through these long January days. It’s people that color our days, isn’t it, whatever the season? Which means that we all have a box of Crayola crayons in our hands every day. Want to do some coloring? No better time of the year than now.
