[2024-01-28] The wise trees stand sleeping in the cold
How quickly the month of January seems to be melting away, like a January thaw. I know, I know—it's not going faster than any other month with 31 days. But it does seem to be evaporating at a brisk pace.
I got behind one day, thinking it was the 8th, when it was already the 15th. And I seem to have stayed in arrears ever since. Perhaps my mind will catch up when I flip the calendar to February.
I can't blame my mental tardiness on an especially busy month. In fact, January has been a relatively quiet one. I like that about winter: its serenity, its guilt-free permission to snuggle up inside, its blessing of a good night's sleep in a cool room under a warm duvet.
Perhaps winter days melt together into one homogenous group of weeks because they feel more similar to each other than the days in spring, summer or fall—like wearing a uniform from December to March.
Winter days are like the wise trees of William Carlos Williams' poem "Winter Trees"—their attiring and disattiring complete, they stand sleeping in the cold.
Winter Trees
— William Carlos Williams
All the complicated details
of the attiring and
the disattiring are completed!
A liquid moon
moves gently among
the long branches.
Thus having prepared their buds
against a sure winter
the wise trees
stand sleeping in the cold.
And the world continues to rush past.
