Walking the solitary garden is like walking the mystical landscape of poetry, and I’m unconsciously reminded of Ann Bronte and her soulful writings… and my heart is “like a sensitive plant that opens for a moment in the sunshine, but curls up and shrinks into itself at the slightest touch of the finger, or the lightest breath of wind”.
So I’ve bought me a red blouse to cheer me up. Generally I would not wear red. Red is not precisely my color, but it sets off balance in the whiteness and barrenness of winter. Red is definitely one of the colors of winter, and I should wear it more often. Tesa and I had so much fun last week at the mall trying on all sorts of pretty things. We laughed and shared secrets as we tried out the perfect lipstick shades and played games and even run a bit hand in hand through the isles when nobody was looking… We tried many a handsome hat too, but we thought these red ones looked supper cool on us!
So I’m in the garden now. And there’s a cold wind sweeping over the old roses, nature basks in the ices of January, but something larger than myself had pulled me out here… I needed to be here...
Daylight is but fleeting moments these days. I find this most distressing to the spirit. By mid-afternoon the special slant of grayish-yellowish light that comes only this time of year would settler over the tall grasses that grow along the old buildings across my office. As they take on a deeper amber hue I’m reminded that the day is almost over. It is a race against time then; a race against darkness, because I yearn to be in the garden; feel it, live in it; be delimited by it; and I know I wont be fulfilling that need for yet another day. It is hard leaving home when it’s dark and returning to it when it’s already dark.
Birds are fugitives of the landscape as well. Maybe they prefer to stay wrapped up indoors… wherever that might be? Bird feeders and food stations are brimming with all sorts of special goodness, but I haven’t seen a bird in weeks, and I have started to believe that maybe the menacing figure of this imposing owl that I so love, because it gives such a sense of peace and mystic to the winter garden, might have something to do with such an unfortunate occurrence... for I truly miss my little friends.
If there’s one thing I love about winter is the magic of birds; old and new feathered friends gathering in the center of the sleepy garden as it slowly awakes from the slumber of a wintry day with their joyful twirling ... Birds are such happy little souls… and I so miss them! I’m thinking maybe I should cheer up the garden with some silk roses—such pitiful contrast in the dead of winter…
I know, this might not work for the birds, but it certainly is putting a smile on my face… ;)
It is getting late and I must get in… magic swirls all around me and again, the sky seems to be on fire.
No drama; not the slightest alteration on any of these photographs; that is just how the sky was when I took them. Here in our valley we are blessed with the most magical and amazing sunsets during the cold months. Twilight is certain a magical time in winter; which by the way, if you want… if you really really want and try your best for a positive attitude, it can truly be a magical season. Yes, I’d have to remind myself of that often! ;)
Oh oh I almost forgot! I have a very interesting and strange tale of sorts to tell you, but that’s going to take me another full post, so I best share it with you next time… For now, I just want to say thank you for blessing me with your friendships and kind words all year through… If you are new here at The house in the roses, I’d like to say WELCOME! I truly hope you will find something here that inspires you. Please stay awhile, and take time to smell the roses! Well, maybe not now; but I'm sure you can wait until May! ;)
