Grapefruit

The other day at the grocer's I saw them. Round, blushed pink, hailing from Texas. Their sweet southern drawl calling out to me. I walked over, entranced. Southern muses. I picked up one, too light, and another, heavy, soft and giving with the sweetest little blush. The faintest hint of their sweet, winter sunset scent escaping to my nose. A mixture of crisp citrus, sweet roses, and the tiniest bite, a little grab at my nostrils, right at the end. Maybe that's the pith, that white bitter part that's so high in nutrients. Truth be told, that was my favorite part as a child. I would carefully peel my citrus fruits, making sure to save the white velvety slightly bitter pillow till the end, when I would scrape it off the peel with my teeth. I picked several more heavy, ripe fruits.

I took home my finds, and cut one open. It practically gushed it's juices all over my cutting board as I sliced it, midway between it's two dimples. There it lay, open and glistening, the juices threatening to fall over the edge and roll down the sides into a small pink puddle. The aroma was intoxicating, and flooded me with memories of crisp mornings at my gramma's, the birds twittering out on her bird feeder, fighting with the local chipmunks and squirrels for the bounty, chirping out victory and warning in chorus, until the next siege and victor. There was hot cocoa, velvety and smooth, and cinnamon toast, warm and buttery, spiced and sweet, and the grapefruit half, sprinkled with a hint of sugar that made it sparkle. Almost like a pink diamond. Love, excitement, and joy. The love of my gramma, smiling and Hummel-like, the excitement of spending the day at her house playing outside with cousins, and the joy of hot cocoa, cinnamon toast, and grapefruits, special treats that only came out in the cold, crisp winter months.

Grapefruits. Sunny little orbs of winter. Yellow and pink like a sunset on the outside, soft translucent smiling pink on the inside. I think citrus fruits are winter's way of letting us know it'll all be ok. Color and vibrance are soon to return, and in the meantime there are grapefruits, oranges, lemons, limes, pumellos and more.

Gray Days Crystal Nights

The nights turn cool, chilly, with a sharpness that penetrates. The days grow short. Night envelopes more than its fair share. The once vibrantly colored leaves now brown, trodden, mudlike. Fat little bushtits fluff up and shiver, chirping out their protest to those passersby that will listen. Squirrels race, as if frantically searching, and nibble on strips of bark. They chatter, too, at passersby, but more like the grumpy old men in those too familiar stories. There are a few straggling wooly bears scrambling to find warmth, and the occassional hop of a frog after a deceptively warm rain. Otherwise it is quiet. It is winter.

Winter brings solace, necessary insulation, and sometimes a sense of loss; color gone from the landscape, warmth gone from the air, sounds gone from the winds. Misunderstanding. Winter is a time of rest and rejuvenation. This is the time to delve inward and heal. Storage for winter, hibernation, and slowed pace all participate in the healing of self. Solace allows for self reflection, so much harder to do when the world around you is a sensual feast. Insulation helps to retain the solace, to ensure the space necessary for the process. The loss; simply helps to make those things we miss in their absence that much more wonderful on their return. Cycles and Seasons.Embrace this winter. Take the time to heal. When spring comes back again your work will be rewarded. All things grow better in clean cultivated soils. Weeds are easier to pull in winter. Get in there and weed. Peace and health be with you.