So the New Year flies in and drags Old Man Winter with her, seeding the sidewalks with sleet, ice pellets and snow.
Oh, but the second week finds sunshine sparkling the snow left behind on the sidewalks, and the children come out to be squinting shyly in the sun, wondering where the rest of the snow bunnies went.
It’s a ragged world; changes occur with a gasp of breath and howl of frigid air. Where are we going this time? we ask. And the answer depends on where we stand: bravely in every gust or cowering inside, refusing to be tossed around.
Then the next Fury hurls sleet into the wind, splitting the clouds with ice and a wail. And with each gust the New Year sails ahead guiding and directing the tempest. How long can this continue? Where will the sails in the skies steer us?
Quiet settles with the snowflakes gently floating, and Howling drowns with a whimper, a cough and a sigh. Sunlight peeps down at a shifting sweep of white, as below, the tempest drifts quietly away. Silence assumes the end of another storm, and all sigh their relief.
January will chase into February soon, raising a song of hope. Something new may overtake our experience, raising a flag of triumph for a new day.
