The view outside my window this morning has a very New York feel to it. Even though we don’t live in a neighborhood of brownstones, I can imagine I do, looking out at the snow-covered trees and yards dominated by old city homes doing their best to hibernate in this wicked cold weather. Jazz emanates from my office radio, I’ve just finished my second cup of coffee, and the writing bug has bitten again after a few months off. Life has a way of doing that to me: jolting me out of my world into the reality of those who need my help in some form or fashion. My energies then focus elsewhere.
It is so cold here that our dogs barely stay outside long enough to answer nature’s call. It takes longer to dress them in their coats and harnesses and me in my winter outerwear than it does for them to take care of business. They show no interest in playing in the snow, and who can blame them? They look darling in their coats, but this sub-zero cold is no time to admire their cuteness. They want in!
Our dog Barney, a playful Shiba Inu mix, loved to push his snout in the snow and toss it into the air, but even he had his temperature limits. I am grateful for the yard so I don’t have to walk Simon and Peabody in this. The sun is mere ornamentation.
But, come spring, the bitter cold will have scrubbed the air clean and readied us for the busy-ness of the warmer, outdoor months. This the time of year when I enjoy just looking outside, not searching the yard for work that needs doing. Arctic air forces me inside where I can plot and plan my garden. Each season has its own grace; winter for me offers an opportunity for reflection and anticipation of the color that will explode out of doors in a few months. I so love the change of seasons here in the Northeast!