The snow outside my window is falling steadily but gently; watching it is compelling. I’m thinking of all the weather forecasters on TV saying that this would ruin the New Year for everyone. I hate slick roads and paths, but I have to say that the powdery covering of white upon brick chimneys, evergreen trees, and fallen leafless branches is probably the most natural observance of the New Year.
I’m not big on resolutions – for me, at least, “clean slates” can’t be forced. They have to be tied to something other than mere willpower; the problem with a willed clean slate is that one has to dismiss the good one has done. It sounds strange to think of snow as a foundation, but maybe that’s what it is. It hasn’t completely covered the landscape, after all – at this point, only graced it.
Happy New Year.