If I were to colour the month of January,
it would have to be white,
even though some of you might argue that
white is not a colour at all.
I do not, however, spend January striving for the ascetic
life. On the contrary, I cultivate life's little pleasures to
celebrate the whiteness of this, most melancholy of months.
A snow-like sprinkling of powdered sugar, a snowdrift
of tiramisu or the winter-white chocolate on the
Sometimes, the relentlessness of the white
January sky might feel oppressive.
Then, a certain slant of light
pierces the chandelier crystals projecting
ghost-like rainbows on the walls.
Or, a special visitor drops by. This deer came
to my garden on a cold, cold day and for a few
moments, out eyes met.
Now and again, there are some real surprises too.
|Photo; Trine Sirnes|
For instance, finding Trinny and Susannah, unexpectedly,
here in The Old Town.