January is done.
One month closer to spring, to summer, to warm breeze, easy breath, green, green, green everywhere.
But, strange though it may seem, I have fallen in love with the winter landscape. I never thought I would. I never thought I would care for the naked, stiffened limbs of trees and the cold seeping through everything. I still don’t care for the cold that comes for my bones with a vengeance. But the trees, the dark brown, and the beige of the earth! How they have fallen on my vision of a sudden, with a loud thump, a look at me, I can be beautiful within my bare bones, within my silence and my waiting. I can be beautiful without the light and the mollycoddling of summer.
I can be beautiful simply by being.
It has been a knock on the door, an awakening.