Jan 28, 10.

The sun breaks through the grey haze of cloud that blankets this January day.  Light falling snow is whisked to the ground by a chilly wind:  Not the kind of lush fairyland snowflakes dreamt of at Christmas time.  These flakes are small and tight, steadily falling without ostentation.  It’s January.  It is seriously cold.  I no longer wear my hat and mitts just to look cute.  But there is a brilliant glow in the cloud cover. It is almost blindingly white, with a hint of rose, like the heart of a flame.  It keeps me from losing hope today, looking out over the sleeping foliage, brittle in the wind.  There is a stack of job postings on my desk.  I’ve rewritten my resume so many times I feel numb to the meaning of the words.  

The stark winter sky is a luminous void, a showcase for anomalies, like the vivid billowing clouds suspended in it.  I see them while driving on the 401, deep purple and brilliant pink, like huge pieces of cotton candy floating in the atmosphere. It reminds me of that song I used to like when I was a child about "ice cream castles in the air."  I’ve looked at love from both sides now…  and I’m looking through those eyes again, remembering the things that once stirred my heart.  Even as a child those dreams were just fairy tales to me. But, now that I’m older they are everything I believe will come true.  So, I must persevere in this winter landscape.