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For Now … Winter

Wed, 26 Dec 2012, 10:29 PM (-06:00) Creative Commons License


So with the winter solstice passed, a cold wind has come down from the north. The mid-70s of last week are gone. The faucets are wrapped and the spinach beds covered.

The lizards and beetles and snakes and other creatures of the earth are hidden in their warm places, maybe under the logs in the back or under the brush pile in the corner or maybe under that scrappy pile of logs and brush out front that in the summer is hidden by Salvia and Sage but is about to be revealed up and down the street as the greenery freezes and falls to the ground and the scrap is laid bare for everyone to see.


The cold, grey clouds broke this evening just as the sun went down. And for a moment the chill of the wind around us went away. The sky lit up orange-red in the west, and wisps of cloud overhead burst alive in electric pink against a pastel blue.

“Wow,” I said. “Just look at that.”

Even the woman in the Pearle Vision store walked to the window to admire it.


The sky.

It has been two months now since a single drop of rain fell from the sky. This should be our rainy time. Yet our two brand new 200 gallon cisterns stand empty on the side of the house.

It is cold tonite, and the air is bitter outside. But the real fright is the blistering dry summer that lies before us.

Still, for now … winter.

© jumpingfish by David Hasan is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License