The First Day

 

The first day of the year, the rain is finally gone and the sun is out –  a perfect start to the decade, beautiful enough to make one forget economic woes and other bothersome worries.   

It seems almost that spring is around the corner instead of the lurking dead of a February winter.   The sun’s warmth and the lack of wind calls for open windows that welcome the fresh, crisp air inside.

 

 

 

A wayward branch of a potted orchid becomes a blooming flower in a majolica swan (Objects Lost and Found.)

 

 

 

Though there was a rare, early snow, the roses continue to bloom…

 

 

 

….as if they too are defying the date.

 

 

 

And although the pink and white cyclamens prefer the frigid air,  their bright blooms fool the eye into thinking it must be some other day than the first one of the year.

 

 

The birds that winter here, like to linger and bathe in the same chilly water that the dogs will later claim in the summer heat.

 

 

 

Squirrels hide their acorns in pots where in the spring, forgotten, tiny oaks will emerge among the ivy. 

 

 

 

 

The shells are the promise of the coming summer – closer now that the winter solstice has passed and each day is slightly longer than the last.

 

 

 

 

Later, as the light starts its inevitable march into dusk – a decision must be made.

 

 

 

Should you stay, in the open, drinking up the last warm rays before dark?

 

 

 

 

Or, better, here, sheltered from the cold night air that is sure to come, nestled up against welcoming arms and soft pillows, a perfect perch to bid goodbye to the first day.