#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
I embrace the cold. After writing into the sunshine hour, I layer up and ski. Any resistance I've had to overcome to x-country ski in this frigid weather has been overcome by the week of excellent snow conditions – the perfectly conditioned trails. I am gliding into the new year. Today, I notice leaves of all shapes and sizes and ages because they are lovely against the canvas of a fresh inch of snow and blue sky.
The Christmas holiday closes, becomes a new year. The drying evergreen is undecorated today, sent out the door with thanks, to be chewed on by Franci's eager pigs. A bittersweet putting away of sentimental objects: I always feel nostalgically close to my mother when I take down the tree in my own living room, which I always do happily by myself. This was a chore my mother simply didn't enjoy, and unlike me, she dreaded doing it alone. So, she always asked for help to take ours down at 44 Brush Hill Road, and we did. But, writing this, I realize now, I don't think it was help she wanted as much as it was company. Christmas was my mother's favorite holiday from start to finish. I think taking down the tree made her sad; I have an instinct, it made her miss her father. I don't know why I think this, but it feels true to me now even though I will never be able to ask her. Except I am missing my father today; I thought about how much I am missing him on my ski. Not because of the tree; because of his absence and how I am getting used to holidays without him.
Hmmmm. Now I see that I've been focusing on fallen leaves today. Decorations that will not be put away.
All photos and text copyright Kelly DuMar 2017