21 December 2015
A thousand flowers, each one seeming one
That learnt by gazing on the sun
To counterfeit his shining;
Within whose leaves the holy dew
That falls from heaven has won anew
A glory, in declining.
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The days of reluctant winter have broken at last, and suddenly, like a swift moving gale wind, the winter has arrived in the deep south and I can rejoice. I get to wear a jacket. I get to go outside and take a walk as I love to do, feeling the brisk air brush against my skin. It is, I admit, a bit of a shock to the system when I am so accustomed to the warm, humid air, but you will not hear complaints from me. I will just add another layer and be so merry.
As quickly as the chilled air arrives, it will depart. It is swift and sweet, and there is no telling of a repeat visit. So, indulgence is a necessity. One must seize the day, or in this case, the few days.
When I take a walk, like I did on this brisk, windy, lovely day, part of my requirement is to find a good place to read. That is an important aspect of enjoying the outdoors, to me. So, of course, I stopped in the garden after my walk, to sit in the shade on the stone bench, and read. The wind blew my hair and my pages, but I read until it was too cold to stay there any longer. When the air is crisp, I take my reading outside and stay there until I grow too cold. Then I head home and make a pot of tea to warm up. It is my idea of the loveliest way to spend the day.