White Fields

This morning I was not elysium, but on earth, for me, it probably came close. I guess I could get into a plane and fly, say, to Nepal or hike up to the snows of Kilamanjaro, or Yosemite Valley after a vintage Ansel Adams snow. But day to day, out my own window, a view I hope to have forever, this is it. A beautiful, high pressure system has locked itself into the region for the next few days. Still and without any cloud cover, a hard cold settled in and when I awoke this mornings everything from the shingles on the rotten roof to the fields above and below the house, was white. Not a little bit white, but a solid, wintery white. It has all burned off today and may not return for another week or two, but it was a harbinger of a winter only weeks away. These next few mornings may well have frosts, but by day, the air temperature should climb into the 50s, governed mostly by the temperature of the ocean. They will be "bonus days," a godsend, a special gift to cherish and appreciate when such warmth and beauty will be rare until a time when the days will once again grow longer and the crocii return. This is my faith, that they will and that I, immortal, will be here to see their return.