When the orange is gone, the yellow and the pink that swiftly follow suit, you hope to see a little of the remaining green under that first white blanket like magic that drifted in on tiptoes one by one while we were fast asleep. For me that magic vanishes when a gust of wind hits my nose and my covered fingers and then my toes. As we approach the darkest, shortest and coldest of winter days, it’s increasingly difficult to follow habits that I created to maintain my sanity. Pushing baby bear around from point A to point B and often point C ain’t happening. Being a creature of comfort seeking habit I must find ones that keep me snuggled inside the walls of my nest…just waiting. And when the wait is over, I’m not stepping out especially when the sun decides to neglect us from its glorious gilded self in these fleeting days. I’ll be snug and warm, dreaming and making, reflecting and admiring the vista of snow covered grounds perched from my window. “…may my heart always be open to little birds who are the secrets of living whatever they sing is better than to know and if men should not hear them men are old.” E.E. Cummings

Oh my little birdie with your graceful soaring, how do you do it in the frosty air leading your feathered friends to adventures into the wind inside all that’s gray? The last remaining of your species, oh crazy finches you remain flitting and singing when days become night so swiftly.

I must sing even during this baseless state, albeit brokenhearted, until baby bear toddles in and flaps about so jubilantly to catch a glimpse of a bird fly by. While the hour is already late, and I remain shivering while waiting to take root, I pass the time with making these snowballs

https://thefolia.com/2015/12/25/cardamon-cashew-clouds/

as I called these cookies growing up. Many dozens were made for beloved teachers and staff who never wear their sadness outside, only their enthusiasm to teach the hearts and minds of our loves. Farewell orange and yellow and pink, you are missed and now there is nowhere to go but into the kitchen to sneak a cookie or two. Wishing you the merriest of merries and may a little birdie show you the way to a heartening holiday.