“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” – J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone
Monday’s snow day was the first significant snowfall in 1,000 days (as reported by several news stations), the large fluffy flakes lazily twisting and turning outside the windows mesmerized me in between routine domestic chores devoid of that fairy-tale glamour. The bottlebrush forest, so dark green in colour it almost appears black on most days, began to wear a mantle of pure white and blend in with the snow-capped mountains behind. In no time at all, my surroundings were beginning to look like a winter wonderland and nostalgic greeting card all rolled into one.
Today this part of the world is expected to receive another wave of snow starting (possibly!) in the early evening – it has been bitterly cold these last few days and once familiar places are now touched by icy fingers. Holiday lights strung on balconies and hung in windows twinkle like frozen crystals underneath the clear sky, their bright colours adding a cheerful note to the pale palette left by the snow. Earlier, as I was sitting on the couch and writing down some thoughts, a seagull came by for a visit – he stood for the longest time on the balcony railing, one leg tucked up under his wing (to keep his webbed foot warm, no doubt) and just stared longingly into our apartment, I felt so bad and hope he has found some comfort elsewhere.
A cold has befallen me as I write of snow and ice, thank goodness for warm mugs of tea and a cozy blanket – there is too much wonder out there and I can hardly wait to walk again by the seawall at twilight, to feel the hush among the shadows as I make my way to the very large holiday-lit tree, to once again feel its sheltering warmth. To walk the trails of the forest, lingering near fragrant cedar trees listening for the call of eagle, raven and crow. To find myself, once again, lost in the wonder…
Journal Entry: December 24, 2004 – Paloma del Mar Hotel on Calle Honduras (Puerto Vallarta, Mexico)
While on our balcony, I’ve been able to watch the Mexican people buying their pinatas for the holidays. There is a sweet store at the corner selling them in all kinds of shapes and colours. Every time I have a peek, there is a new one hanging underneath their awning, swaying gently in the breeze. The air is full of woodsmoke as everyone starts preparing for the holiday, there are gatherings on rooftops, in parking spaces and backyards as well as in courtyards. It’s exciting to experience the holiday season in another country, I remember Guanajuato very fondly. It’s getting cool out – we may walk to the malecon tonight and I think I will be wearing my cargo pants.