I’m not awake as I wait for the coffee to perk, my dog trying to make sure I love him with head-butts nd snuffles since he is why I’m up; he knows I wanted to sleep in as we now sit crashed on a sofa, him under my old baby quilt, fast asleep and cozy while I’m bleary-eyed waiting for the only thing that makes the mornings tolerable, while outside the sun shines warm, trying to beat back the cold north wind of a blustery March day, trying to be spring as winter hangs on with sharp, clutching nails, though the violets seem oblivious to the cold as their warm, sweet scent floats up, mocking the cold.
Now the mountains are shrouded in mist and cold, a wild needle-like wind bites and sinks into the skin, and I feel like I’m back in January while the calendar says spring is moments away, or years, or just days…. Only the weather seems to know what the mornings shall bring…..
Just a bit of prose, I think.
Tonight, it smells like snow. Or December. I think December has a very distinct smell that reminds me of The Carpenters, John Denver‘s “Aspenglow” song, Columbia, California and clearly Christmas. It’s this woodsmoke and cold, mountain air. It’s misty cold from the pines. It’s pines. It’s the smell of Christmas trees and old candy canes.
Snow smells. People that don’t get snow wouldn’t understand, but snow has this metallic, slightly dirty smell. Like damp dust. Only it’s cleaner and fresher. And colder. I know it sounds strange to say snow smells like dust, but every snowflake is made from a speck of dust. you would not have snow unless you had dirt. Sounds even stranger. But seriously, melt snow and the water isn’t very clean at the bottom. And it tastes weird. Definitely dirty. I like to eat snow, but even it doesn’t taste like clean water. Yet you think it is because it’s white.
So, tonight, it smells like metallic cold pines and woodsmoke.
Tonight I smell snow.
That being said, I don’t know if it’s going to snow, but it might be in the mountains. All of California is getting much needed precipitation of some sort.
Of course Christmas type things are always inspirational, but you have to have ballerinas, velvet dresses and such to complete a Saturday Inspires for December. Hey, if I can’t have my tree yet, then I’ll make the best of it with images.
As a new snow fell on the old year, it was like a sign of a fresh beginning. A snow so pure and white. A snow so perfect with every six-sided snowflake in perfect form. The sky to the west became pinker as more and more snow fell, the silence breathtaking.
Then, as the old year ran out, and a new beginning started, the sky was lit up with glorious fireworks in honor and celebration of a man known to my small town. A man who passed away on the 20th of December, the day we had a full eclipse on the winter solstice. Well known by all who lived here, it was a sad day for many when Rusty passed on.
But the sky was filled with shatteringly beautiful sparks of green and red, blue and gold, silver and yellow. On and on they went, celebrating a life. A life that was taken from this world all too soon.
I think that with the snow, and the celebration, this was a spectacular start to a new year. I may not make much ado about the whole starting fresh, but what could be more obvious than such signs as was played out tonight in my little town in Northern California. We are all starting fresh, and onward we go into a brand new year. Full of hope and promises. Wishes and dreams.
I wish every one the best of all to come. Happy New Year!