I've always believed that the new year is a time for fresh starts, new beginnings. Excited anticipation and enthusiasm. For one reason or another this year's beginning couldn't have been further away from what I'd hoped so I've decided that my New Year starts now. Today. Saturday February 7th 2015 seems to be as good a time as any for a new beginning. Who says we have to conform to tradition?
My New Year's Day coincides with dense freezing fog and snow covered fields. All the better to appreciate a log fire and creamy coffee.
But prior to the descent of the fog the past week has seen amazing light.bright days with wonderful sunsets over the fields and woods and the dogs have loved the snow.
Peering through the snow are my favourite, resilient little flowers, the snowdrops. Along the meagre shelter of the wall they emerge so that amid the gloom of winter you suddenly notice them.
Who'd have thought they could force their way through the iron hard, frozen ground, withstand the bitterest cold and darkest days to grow and unfurl their shy white drooping heads, giving us a hint and promise of warmth and light to come? Yet every year they do just that. Imagine if they decided it was too much effort to flower in the winter time. If they opted to take the slightly easier path like the crocuses, daffodils and tulips. What a long winter we'd have, with such a slow wait for signs of Spring. That dreary time in-between the winter solstice and spring equinox. Imagine if there were no little beacons of better, easier times to come. I'd certainly miss them and their dependable and determined hopefulness.
Thank goodness for the snowdrops, I say. The snowdrops and all they epitomise. The snowdrops and their impeccable timing.
Wishing everyone a Happy New Year.