winter | Pujakins

Heartwings says, “As you seek out its loveliness, you will appreciate each season.”

As spring begins her slow back-and-forth progress across the landscape, the beauty of winter will soon be behind us. I will miss the bouquets of bare branches, springing from their tree trunk stems where they grow by the side of the road.

To be sure, I will be happy for the brighter days, and as well for the warmer temperatures—until it gets too hot. Which is why I am such a fan of winter. Summer is my least favorite season, though of course that was not always true for me. As I grow older, I grow fonder of the cooler temperatures, and I tolerate the heat less and less.

I sleep better when there are more of the darker hours as well. Even though I do enjoy the late evenings of summer there is something so cozy about drawing the curtains in the late afternoons of winter, and of feeling the warmth of the quilt when I climb into my bed at night. For me this is another of the many forms of beauty. My definition of beauty is broader than most.

Beauty takes many forms, many of them not traditional. There is beauty in an elderly wrinkled face when the wrinkles are from that person’s many smiles over the years. Every season has its own special beauty, and so does each season of life. There is beauty in the memories and stories of a long life, and the wisdom of age has a beauty all its own.

In the winter of my life, it is enjoyable to me to see the grown grandchildren as they become their adult selves. I recently became a great grandmother again, and as I looked at the face of the proud father holding his first, a son, my heart warmed in my chest. I probably will not see the young boy into manhood, and that’s all right, I can see him growing and that’s enough.

In winter, for me, each day becomes more precious. To my dismay, my moments seem to speed by; my hours vanish into the days. I cannot slow down time; however, I can take note of it. I can be present in my hours and in my days. I can make note of whatever beauty is to be found wherever it is present. This is true in every season, of course yet in winter it might be more difficult.

The stark landscape may not appear beautiful to some or even many people. To me, its simplicity is beautiful. The dry grasses and weeds, brown against the snow or swaying in the wind are quite lovely. Of course, flowers are glorious when they appear, and the daffodils are welcome, yet the muted landscape enhances the brilliance of the cardinals and the other birds. When the sun shines, it makes more of an impact then, than during the other seasons.

It is wonderful to see beauty and to appreciate it, wherever it is found. Being present to enjoy it is a kind of beauty as well.

May you take the time to enrich yourself with beauty.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS What do you enjoy about winter? What season do you appreciate most? I love it when readers share with me, please write to me at tashahal@gmail.com and make my day.

Fall Patterns shadows and leaves

Many of us inherit our tastes from our parents. I am no exception. My mother was an artist with her own gallery. There she sold her paintings and a few decorative items that included carved wooden works by my brother and his wife, that might be bought by those who came in for a look around. She primarily painted abstracts, and she enjoyed wielding her brush to music. She had a brush in her hand most of every day. She once told me she had sold paintings to people all over the world.

She did not normally paint in bright colors. Even her rare red and purple paintings were slightly toned down. Her subjects were simple, her canvases were uncluttered. Her personal palette was also muted. She seldom wore any colors but tan, ivory or brown. What little jewelry she wore wasn’t bold. By contrast my father liked bright, bold colors and was himself a colorful character. I inherited his tastes both in clothing and in life. I dress primarily in red, pink, and bright turquoise. I like bold earrings and bracelets. My tastes are very different from my mother’s. She preferred muted simplicity while I, like my father, like vivid complexity.

The strong colors of fall make it my favorite time of year. The beauty of fall is spread over the roads as well as the hills and meadows like a cloak of brilliant hues, and the loveliness of it resonates in my heart. All during the months of fall when I am driving, I have to keep reminding myself to keep my eyes on the road, and when I have the treat of being driven, I am ever so grateful because then I can look at the landscape without fear of landing in a ditch.

Spring is lovely too. An astute observer once wrote that the colors of spring and fall were similar, only the colors of fall were more intense while the colors of spring exhibited a pastel palette. I hadn’t considered this before, however the next spring I observed the truth of what he was saying. Still, though the spring landscape is indeed lovely, for me it does not have the poignancy of fall. Spring heralds the warmth of summer, vacations, visits with friends and relations, and playtime for many. Fall, at least in the northern hemisphere, heralds the last of the warmth. Its bright days dwindle as the hours shorten. Soon winter will be upon us, and the bleakness of that landscape.

But wait, there is more. In winter, in contrast to the lush, rounded shapes of leaf burdened branches, the bare branches of the trees trace their design against the winter sky, revealing their essential shapes. Too, the dried weeds and grasses exhibit a delicacy that draws the eye, while once the flakes begin to fall their shadows decorate the snow drifts in subtle ways. Beauty does not always shout its presence, sometimes it whispers. The eye of the beholder needs to be attuned to the subtleties of beauty as well as to its obvious ones. If rather than turning my eyes inward with my thoughts I pay attention to what there is to see, I will find beauty everywhere I look regardless of the season.