The stark contrasts of the winter's endless gray skies, the gently falling snow and the brilliance of  the ever present songbird, the Cardinal, has me in a reflective mood today.

It’s almost impossible to ignore the various hues evident in the backdrop outside our windows each day. It’s as though the earth below and the sky above have collaborated to blend into one masterpiece of sorts with no beginning or end.

Then there is the silence that is hard to ignore along with a stillness born of the earth lying in wait. `Even the activities of winter winds and  breezes are  occasionally cooperating some of the time.

Winter asks very little of us in truth except to be observant and appreciative in a different way than other seasons.

The quiet of winter can bring about a patience and a peacefulness  that eases into our psyche and quite unexpectedly softens those edges that prevent us from appreciating what each day brings as a gift regardless of the season.

Recognizing that  the silhouettes that the gently falling snow creates as the flakes find respite on each angle of the tree limbs creates a ladder of sorts for the imagination to climb toward exploring the possibilities of what comes next. 

Then suddenly the eye might catch a glimpse of winter's distinguished and ever present resident  that adds its punctuation to a branch. 

Their year round presence is a reminder that not everything has packed up and moved south for the season.

I often think of the winter cardinals as our morale boosters.

It’s a time to “notice” things within ourselves.

We’re just on the other side of a strange reality that I’m beginning to believe was always a truly  God given gift that spoke to an appreciation that was often lost in  youth.

The older I get the more I appreciate winter's honesty. 

At this stage in life, at this time of mid-winter, I am finding that it can be helpful to realize that our day to day experiences during these colder months is clearly a time to mentally re-negotiate our lives. We can admire the beauty that is all around and if we forget we’re reminded we will get through until the first crocus peaks its head through mother earth's loving embrace. Similarly, each stage of our lives beckons us forward as well.

At this point, winter is asking very little of us-perhaps just occasionally taking notice of  the red, accepting of the white and forgiving the of the “blues” that make themself known sometimes without warning.

We’ll get through.

Pat Larsen is a syndicated columnist who  lives, works, plays and prays in Greene County, NY with her husband Chris and their pup, Lily.

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