Winter's teeth

A little change in our routine arrived this past Wednesday. Now that snow has fallen in substantial quantities, I am back to making wardrobe decisions based on what I can wear with snow boots (so long for now, slacks). Before leaving the house, I have to decide what I can reasonably take with me on the bus. Lunch hour errands are out.

For worse, but more for better, snow makes me slow down. It makes me walk with caution, whether I'm shuffling along the shoveled, frozen sidewalk or making calculated climbs over craggy snow berms.

It gives me time to see patterns across the lawn, in the ice, on the deck railings. Devoid of much color, a surprising number of these things call attention to themselves, and they change by the hour.

The snow also makes colors stand out that much more. I relish the first morning after a snowfall to notice all the smartly painted shutters and doors that suddenly pop out.

It's this time of year that I really have to work on a positive perspective. It's a challenge, but I'm finding ways.

A leaded glass window creates its own little warped world.

There's no need to think about how all this will be green again. I'm thankful to know you, winter.