Reflections

The temperature is dropping now, after several days of remarkably benign weather. Were it not for the mild insanity we usually refer to as the Spirit of Christmas, to which I am unfortunately deeply prone, it would have been ideal to work outside, to trim and cut, to work pathways through those pesky “multiflora roses” that seem to infest the land in these parts.

The use of the word, “rose” in the naming of this marauding nightmare of a plant is to do injustice to all the lovely producers of beautiful blooms that we normally associate with the word. However, as we know them hereabouts, multiflora roses give no flowers but are instead prolific producers of large arcing masses of tough thorny stems as high as ten feet, of no purpose other than to deter passage through, under, around or near them. Walking anywhere near these obnoxious plants invites torn flesh, ripped clothing and rising irritation to the point of massive frustration. I spend much time plotting ways to eradicate them.

But tonight, I am content to let these "roses" sit there in the cold ground, their leaves dropped, and maleficent stems in pitiful arc as they endure the freezing wind.

Do I sound as if I hate these plants? Not at all. I understand that, like large black snakes, these creations of Universe have their own beauty, and their own proper place in the grand scheme of things. I respect and honor their right to exist, even to the point of admiring their unique ways of surviving. My only requirement is that they both locate elsewhere than around my place. I will enforce that dictum in due time. For now their brown stalks can rest.

I spent much of the day completing the final packing and shipping of Christmas presents for my sister and her family in far-away Chicago. After smoothing down the last bit of tape, I drove into town, deposited boxes with the good postmistress of our local PO, bade the boxes on their way and came home.

Whereupon I felt oddly depressed. Nancy said it was because I won’t get to see the reactions as the presents are opened. She was right, and the observation made me feel better.

Later, Dog and I went out to close up the chicken coop for the night. This is a fine evening indeed, a stillness of 35 degree temperatures and brilliant stars. It was chilly-beany though and we didn’t linger outside.

Tonight Daisy and I rest inside the farmhouse, warmed by a good fire. She was outside for much of the day, earning her keep. Her large envelope-shaped ears were cold when she came in, and she was very happy to get a little warm hug as she pranced in. She likes to curl around under my legs as I sit on the sofa and rub the infinitely soft fur around her head.

Having done good work today, the mood inside is peaceful and quiet. Dinner is bubbling, and Dog is curled up in front of the fire.

I have in mind to share a picture that conveys my mood of the moment. It was taken earlier in the season, of the pond. It was a coolish day, with a light wind that moved the water into an oddly regular rippling pattern. In this image, the reflection of trees in the background waver into immanent horizontal patterns that seem to express that certain feeling of peace and quietude which perfectly matches my mood tonight.