December 27, 2007
The past few weeks have been filled with holiday parties, with warmth and colour and food. It's traditional here in Snowstorm region to wear bright red to Christmas parties: red sweaters, red dress shirts, red Santa hats, and fancy velvet red dresses for little girls. Sometimes a rebel (or a redhead) might wear bright green instead, or bright blue. Guests become decorations at holiday parties, their bodies creating swirls of colour as they mingle, moving targets for little kids who were given Nerf dart guns by a childless aunt. Every house we've visited has had a Christmas tree glittering with red and gold, with shiny ornaments in bright colours. Our living room has been deliciously warm, with a fire going almost constantly. The kids —without the annoying distraction of school — have been jamming at all hours of day and night. The holidays have been crowded and noisy, filled with talking and laughter and remote control helicopters that zoom about the living room and dive bomb unsuspecting parents.
But outside, snow covers the landscape. The colours are muted and subtle, the greys, blues, and browns of winter. Misty mornings paint bare tree branches with white. When I drove to the grocery store to buy large quantities of food, I passed fields of glittery white, frost-tipped phragmites waving in the cold wind, and pine trees bending under the weight of icy snow. When I stopped near the canal to take a short walk, I could hear almost nothing, just the sound of snow crunching under my boots. The air smelled pure, cleansed by the swirling snow. I spent a few moments just breathing in the quiet scene before returning to my noisy household.
Posted by jo(e)