Rescue Song

It's no secret that I love Winter here in Utah. Positively love it. But I've been reading a lot of comments out there in the interwebs of electronic humanity. Something of needing the revival of Spring. A readiness to leave February behind in a happy farewell. I'll say it. I'm not ready. I am not ready for the iced over earth to emerge into newness, and all that happy splendor. I love Spring. I really do! I love every season, in her own way. But I've felt well-preserved in Winter. She's been my secret friend these bright and cold months in a new place. I am happy to stay in her arms laced with fresh snow and the hush of an icy morning just a little longer. I don't feel I need to be rescued from the bite of Winter. She's whispered her sweetness to me. A sweetness I don't feel in the spring. A secret drawing out of my soul. No, I don't need to be rescued from Winter. Winter has rescued me.

If you are needing a little pick-me-up while waiting for warmer days, check out Mr. Little Jeans for some tunes. They'll put a spring in your step to be sure!

Snow

It's winter here. I know most other places are still boasting fall, with its with changing leaves and cooler winds. And maybe it's even summer somewhere (my friends in Australia...). But here, it's winter. The first big snow arrived last week. We danced in snowflakes the size of silver dollars, feeling like we were inside a snow globe. The mountains look their happiest. And everywhere the contrast of white on dark is almost blinding. Magically so. Everyone here says I'll hate it soon enough. I assure them that I have lived in miserably snowy places that are nothing like Heber City, to no avail."Just wait until February," they say with that look. Or, "Well it's your first winter—give it a few years." And inside of me I hope my little heart out that I will love it then just as much as I do now.

SNOW
by Hope Harder

I am Snow,
The unknowing say that I am cold.
Only those who love me
know how warm I am.
I bring a blanket of virginity
to cover my beloved Earth.
Silently I come,
bringing oblivion and rest.
In swirls I circle to Earth,
and lay carpets of wintry flowers
over the barren ground.
I bring silence
and a white aroma of peace.
Gently and quietly I festoon the land.
My mother was Rain,
and my father was Ice.
I am Snow—
I come to share
my frozen lace with you.

Breath of fresh air

We bundled up and took Finn to the coast to breathe the cool, damp, salty air. It was a good change of pace. Welcome to December!

And thank you all for your comments and e-mails about Finn's croup. The suggestions have been very helpful!