The Blues and Other Hues of Winter

February 23, 2014 by  


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Today’s simple pleasure ~ the ever present blues, whites, and browns of a February wintry day. I took a winter walk with my camera today. It was bitter cold but sunny.  The air was still and silent, “crisp” as they say, and its freshness made me feel bold and alive. Leafless brown trees stuck up out of the ice and snow like amazing sculptures — their branches looking like hair, or veins, or fingers stretching across the sky. Varying hues of white snow and glistening ice blanketed the landscapes everywhere. The cloudless sky was a classic robin’s egg blue. Clean and bright. I loved these soft, muted colors nestled all around me and even though it was bitter cold I felt my Spirit stir with the warmth of it all — it was a winter’s blanket.  With no birds or other animals to accompany me, my pursuit was quiet and solitary. Sometimes those are the best kind. It was what I needed.

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I prefer Winter and Fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape — the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show. ~~Andrew Wyeth

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It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake, the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam. This crisp winter air is full of it. ~~ John Burroughs, “Winter Sunshine”

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What a severe yet master artist old Winter is…. No longer the canvas and the pigments, but the marble and the chisel.  ~~ John Burroughs, “The Snow-Walkers,” 1866

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Nature looks dead in winter because her life is gathered into her heart. She withers the plant down to the root that she may grow it up again fairer and stronger. She calls her family together within her inmost home to prepare them for being scattered abroad upon the face of the earth. ~~Hugh Macmillan, “Rejuvenescence,” The Ministry of Nature, 1871

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The color of springtime is in the flowers; the color of winter is in the imagination. ~~ Terri Guillemets

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There is a privacy about it which no other season gives you…. In spring, summer and fall people sort of have an open season on each other; only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer, quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself. ~~Ruth Stout

I noticed how everything was fast asleep. Hibernating. Biding its time. Like to have what we want takes time. Like love, and relationships, and friendships, and teams take time. Everything was so very still. And sometimes things must stand still before they can move.

Take your time.

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