Seasonal Shifting on the Horizon

The snow banks in Boston have come down to knee high from waist high. Walking to the gym this morning, it almost seemed that winter was over. It's not, of course. In New England it goes on awhile into what would be spring in other places. 

I am not complaining. I like winter. 

Though when we enter that transitory period between winter and spring, when the white melts away to black underneath, and ponds of rock-salted muck appear, I think everyone's ready to fast-forward.

Before winter does disappear, I want to mention one of its unexpected beauties. 

A couple times over the past weeks, as I've been walking to work after a snowfall, the wind has stirred the snow from the roofs of buildings along my path and thrown a swirl of crystals up against the morning sun. The effect is stunning, like a daylight fireworks display. 

The mundane canyons downtown transform to alpine peaks for an instant, and I feel confirmed in my willingness to notice such brief displays. I wonder if anyone but me has looked up from our determined burrowing toward the day's pending work.

Season to Come

In the middle of winter, it's nice to remember what's ready to happen as the sun progresses back to the north. Magnolias along Comm Ave in Boston are, I am sure, busy preparing buds for the blossoming times ahead. Something nice to contemplate when there is a foot of snow on the ground!

Sunday Serenity

To be inside on a Sunday morning, with coffee, while it snows outside, is among the most serene and subtle blessings. It's so easy to forgo appreciation for such a simple and essential pleasure . . . to be, in this moment, safe and warm and able to appreciate, contemplate. 

I walked through the Public Garden late last night, nearing 2 AM, when the snow had just begun to fall in large, swirling flakes . . . creating a sense of buoyancy and light. Though I was distracted, unfortunately . . . victim to the avaricious mind . . . there was still a sense of balance and beauty and even magic infusing my stubborn consciousness.

This morning I am trying to just be, in this moment, appreciative and pleased to watch the snow drift past the giant blue, monolithic Hancock Tower. It's like finding oneself in the midst of a snow globe, a whirl of white and quiet. A city transformed, a mind paused, in the presence of a snowfall. 

Creche Art

Passing by in Cambridge yesterday on a walk, I was attracted by this contrast of colors against the snow's white. I don't really have a religious response to record. More just an observation that people's compulsion to express beliefs (whatever those may be) in art (however kitschy) continues in this new millennium. And that seems a good thing. 

Things Could Always Be Worse (or Better)!

From the last "great" blizzard to hit Boston in early 2005!