Reminiscing The Winter Sun

Winter sun in the forest

I saw a beautiful photo today. A view of setting sun through bare winter trees and snowy patches scattered around. A circular driveway, fresh car tire marks, few footsteps, fallen leaves and loose stones edging the circular patch of lawn.

I was so drawn into the photo that I could breathe the crisp winter air. I could feel its cool chill on my cheeks. Hear the slight rustle of breeze through a few dead leaves hanging on to branches. Still and welcoming.Waiting for someone to take a walk and add some life to the typical suburban scene.

I remembered winters in our house, back in Redmond. We used to peer out of the windows in our family room and see if there was ice on the patio. I used to crack open the window for some fresh air. I used to gingerly step onto the deck, bare feet but wrapped in a coat and see if icicles have formed. The feel of the wooden deck under my bare feet shocking me with the cold before I adjusted to the bleak temperatures. I would lean over the railing to see if snow’s weight  had drooped tender Choisya branches. I would make a careful dash to relieve the drooping branches from its snowy burden. Occasionally an unknown bird would flit through even in the freezing cold.

I recalled the smoke clouds formed from heaters as it drifted over neighbouring houses.Always with a background drip-drop of an icicle melting from the roof gutters overhead. Sometimes a childs laugh as  families took their kids out on the trail behind our house would break the silence only to fade as they walked away.

Almost always, the numbing toes would make me hop on my feet and make me dart back inside. In the golden warmth of the home.Wrap myself in a blanket and wait till the toes wiggle back in life.

In India, I miss winter. The long woolen coats, infinity scarfs and oh, the tall leather boots. Gloves and hats.Snug, warm and cosy.

I wouldn’t mind a visit to Redmond to make a snow angel, sit by a roaring fire side and sip on a latte.

Never thought I would miss winter. But here I am longing for the slow pace, peace and solitude that only winter offers. Seems unlikely this year but hopeful for 2014; if only for a week.

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Posted on January 29, 2013, in Writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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