Sitting by the fire, snow gently falling

We've had a joyful Transfiguration Sunday, and now Lori and I are sitting by the fire, the snow gently falling outside. I am thinking of many friends, near and far, old and new, and very thankful.

Here is a photo Lori took a short while ago from our front porch of the Redbud tree in front of our house on the hill.

The tree is transfigured, don't you think?

More Monday Funnies, and more snow...

It is snowing again. Enough already.

In that spirit, Betsy Poist sent this along. It is a church sign from Piney Flats, Tennessee...

More snow...stay warm today!

Photo by Bonny Bronson

Snowflakes, sunlight, miracles

As I look out the window, there is still much snow on the ground and on the roof of the garage. The sky is sharply clear, but the sun low to the ground, and shadows long. It is very cold outside. Epiphany, the feast of light, is upon us this winter day.

We are overdue for a poem this year in this space. How about two poems for the day? The first was written for today by Megan Brett, and the second comes from our friend Karen from Tennessee. Karen usually sends poems from other authors, but this one she wrote.

I like both of these a lot. Take each word a few at a time. Go slowly. May you enjoy your winter day.

Seventh of January
By Megan Brett

The wise kings have come and gone,
mistletoe and pine are down from the doorway,
and the tree, poor thing, sits outside in the cold,
nature-bare and free of its holiday dress.
The clay creche has been careful wrapped away,
and the angels have come off the mantle.
All the sparkling trappings of Christmas
gone from the house
(but not, says the hopeful Spirit, from our hearts).

33°

By Karen Claussen

lazy

flakes

of

snow

as

big

as

dreams

are

falling

ever

so

slowly,

and

I

jogging

in

the

park

with

my

dog,

am

made

witness

to

the

covenant

that

life,

despite

its

cold

its

chaos

and

its

brevity,

is

still

something

of

a

miracle

Snowflakes, fire and love for a winter's day

Did you know that the first photograph of a snowflake was taken by Wilson Bentley? His first successful photographic plate of a snow crystal was taken 1885. Bentley (1865-1931) used a bellows camera to shoot through a microscope at snowflakes collected on black velvet. During his lifetime, he took more than 5,000 photographs of individual snowflakes. 

Though his was a scientific inquiry, Bentley had a poet's touch. He called his tiny subjects "ice flowers" and "tiny miracles." The photograph on this posting is from a series of plates Bentley completed in 1902. 

Today it is snowy in this part of the country and the street in front of our house has disappeared. Life slows down in the snow. I leave you with a poem from Rumi (b. 1207), from my collection of offerings from our friend Karen in Tennessee:

An Armor of Roses

Take January’s advice. Stack wood.
Weather inevitably turns cold, and you

make fires to stay healthy. Study
the grand metaphor of this yearly work.

Wood is a symbol for absence. Fire,
for your love of God. We burn form

to warm the soul. Soul loves winter
for that, and accepts reluctantly the

comfort of spring with its elegant,
proliferating gifts. All part of the

plan: fire becoming ash becoming
garden soil becoming mint, willow, and

tulip. Love looks like fire. Feed
yourself into it.