late winter sun

an early morning start to this almost-the-end-of-the-holiday saturday. waking to letters and work to be done rolling through my head and so i allowed myself to get acclimatized to the idea of not sleeping in and got up. a little bit of a fog is rolling in as it promises to be a relatively mild day - might crack zero.

"i prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure in the landscape - the loneliness of it - the dead feeling of winter.
something waits beneath it - the whole story doesn't show." andrew wyeth

there are not many days left until the spring equinox and so the days are noticeably longer. light - such as is available between snowstorms - is also magically much more available. in the mornings the light washes between the trees with a subtle, softness that is quite different from the more penetrating rays of summertime.

the sky colours at that time of day are light violet-blue, and the contrast with the stark fingerlike branches of the bare trees makes for a gentle yellowish white light.

here are two pictures from midweek.


the march of winter

they that have gone by forest paths shall hear
the outcry of worn reeds and leaves long shed,
the rise and sound of waters. overhead,
out of the wide northwest, wind-stripped and clear,
like some great army dense with battle gear,
all day the columned clouds come marching on,
long hastening lines in sombre unison,
vanguard, and centre, and still deepening rear;
while from the waste beyond the barren verge
drives the great wind with hoof and thong set free,
and buffets and wields high its whistling scourge
around the roofs, or in tempestuous glee,
over the far-off woods with tramp and surge,
huge and deep-tongued, goes roaring like the sea.

archibald lampman (1861-1899)