Warmth from a Sunset

Can you feel it?  Isn't it just the best treat in the world?  I stand on my porch looking west toward the sunset. 

After what seems like 100 days of grey skies and ragged, freezing wind, snow up to your eyeballs, frozen tundra, ceaseless trips to the barn for yet another load of wood to feed the stove, we see this beautiful sunset.

I know.  We have probably had lovely sunsets in the few days before I wrote this.  But I am a sissy.  I don't like to stand on my west facing porch with the wind from Siberia blowing in my face.  Right, right, Siberia is the other direction.  But give me a break.  If I say it feels like Siberia...IT IS SIBERIA.

This was the first big snowstorm that we have had this decade. It seems like it lasted forever even though it was only here a few days...turning our usual warmish "here comes Spring" February into a visit to the deep freeze buried somewhere in the Arctic north.

When the thermometer rose to above freezing today, I felt as if a heavy gray blanket had been lifted from my shoulders.  The snow was pretty.  When the sun shone it was a wonderland of sparkles and diamonds, reflecting the blue sky overhead.  I watched from the warmth of my living room.  I made endless pots of tea.  Lots of warm soup and sandwiches.  But I was missing something.

I usually go for a walk everyday.  I have a new hip, and even with my trusty hiking poles, I dare not  take my daily stroll to examine just what might be going on out to the east and then back to west.  I miss my daily talks with the trees, and rocks along my path.  You'd be surprised what wisdom I gather from them.

This evening I finally went out on the porch, just before supper, to see the sunset.  And this is what I heard.  "Don't despair.  This frozen view will soon be gone.  The gentler breezes will blow the budding trees.  Here. Touch my hand.  Better days are coming.  Just close your eyes and feel the warmth I am sending you."  And that is just what I did.  Who knew that a sunset could be so warm?