A recent increase in both the temperature and the amount of morning birdsong around our house seems to indicate that Winter may finally be moving out of Spring’s way (I hope you appreciate the tentative nature of that statement–it is still the changeable month of March, after all). We celebrated the possible appearance of Spring this weekend by smoking two enormous racks of spareribs and inviting friends over to join in the bounty. As we ate, we discussed Spring gardening plans, favorite hiking haunts, and the joys of later sunlit hours (the only benefit of the time change, in my opinion–otherwise, this meme best describes my thoughts about turning the clock forward over the weekend).
So, with all this desire for Spring, why bring Winter up again?
Because when I took these photos, I loved the colors, but couldn’t place them, until I realized that in them were the hues of a pale winter’s morning sun glancing across blue-shadowed snow.
Because there is still beauty to be found in winter.
Because if I fail to recognize the hard-sought beauty of bleaker months, and instead long only to run forward to better times, I likely will have trained myself to run through beauty, checking it off as a thing seen, rather than seeking it out and in it seeing sign posts to grandeur.