we had our first hard frost this week- 27 degrees – being from ohio, i sometimes laugh
at myself, but it felt really cold! chalk it up to almost 30 years in the south, and this
drafty old house with its skating-rink floor. it is old-house-chill as well as a certain color
dullness outdoors that confirms winter is settling in. i gain new arm strength, as the
occasional fires become a daily ritual. there is cozy comfort in the heater’s steady work,
but it requires braving the cold to go out first thing in the morning for more wood.
no matter how much i carry in the evening before, i seem to burn it all…so outdoors
at dawn is part of the ritual, too.
even though we have evergreen piney woods instead of mostly bare hardwoods, our
winter landscape seems muted. after weeks of more rain, we enjoyed a few golden
sunny days. last week it hit almost 70… with air-conditioning back on for the Christmas shoppers. that night, it dropped to 30, a much more seasonal feeling in the air. i have
said this before- december in middle ga. is so variable that you can often take a pleasant
walk after Christmas dinner, in shorts! this year, i think it will progress in a more reasonable,
seasonable manner towards our “very” cold snap in january… all is in the greenhouse;
the bonsai are safely tucked under the benches, with a deep leaf mulch covering their
small pots, and my orchids are beginning to bloom beside my reading chair.
since i must use words instead of a camera, i am posting some recent impressions
of the season, as we approach the the solstice and the shortest day. it seems perfect
timing that Christmas arrives with the returning of the Light.
Best greetings to youall from patagonia farm…
peace and joy now and in the coming year!!
vty, j-lea
– winter haiku –
wild hollyberries,
redbirds’ bright scarlet flash in
dun-colored landscape.
delicate ice spikes
edging the deep bronze oak leaves
frosty white morning.
summer tomatoes’
limp gray-green tresses waving
in the winter winds.
round frozen fishpond
a mirror for dazzling stars
in the velvet sky.
– perfect Birth –
in starry silence,
while the whole world lies dreaming
in perfect stillness…
