Ok, yeah, I know I wrote almost, uh, lovingly, about snow the other day. At best, I was using it as a device to show how we all need to stop once in a while. But this morning, staring out at the relentlessly white hard-pack coating the ground, watching small birds desperately try to find food, the thrill is gone, the dream is over, and I want this frozen sludge to melt.
The problem is one of color: There isn’t any. Miami isn’t intoxicating because of the weather. [Who needs to sweat all the time?] It’s the color. Blue sky [Ok, we have that here] white sand [a creamy, soft white] 27 kinds of Pink houses, orange roofs, green in every shade and shape imaginable, turquoise water! Turquoise! Flowers!
Frankly, it could be 30 degrees, but with all that color, I’d be warm.
Here we have brown, black, white and grey.
Rocks. Big ones: grey.
Trees: brown, grey.
Snow: white, grey
Dead garden: brown, some ochre
Evergreens: Green – DARK
Moss on dead trees: radioactive supporating green
I’m trying to see it as, well, serene, restful, calming, but all I’m coming up with is dull, depressing, and monotonous. And I’m reminded that the bare bones of my landscaping leaves a lot to be desired. I did try to grow cornus one year. They are those bushes that lose their leaves, but the stems are red. Unfortunately, the deer read them as lettuce. Now I have a fence, but am traumatized.
Here’s one other thing about icy snow: Those stolid maniacs who operate the giant plows: They love to plow the driveway shut. Of course, their faces don’t change expression, but I know deep down, this is why they come to work when it snows.
My neighbor’s house is yellow. Big deal. It’s not a yellow I like and it’s surrounded by those other colors. One year, in preparation for painting our house barn red, we mixed some of the red into the white primer. We did not get a nice pink, however. What we got was a cross between dark mauve and darker flamingo pink.
Although we tried, we could not get the house painted, only primed, before the weather turned cold. So, all winter our house remained that color. I can’t tell you. People stopped their cars. Some joggers/walkers/sightseers tried to be nice: “It’s an interesting color.” I hastily answered: “It’s just the primer.” People in general are not good actors. Or maybe they thought the relief they showed was supposed to make us feel good. There was a small part of me that wanted to leave the house that color just to try their patience, but nausea won out.
I’m not enough of a Calvinist to take much comfort in the idea that all this stuff makes the Spring that much more enjoyable. I could live in a more colorful climate and never take it for granted. Really.