cozy

Yesterday Hugo and I took a walk on the Licking River path.  Gray, cold, damp day.  I love the hazy grays of the bare branches and the pale ochres of the dried grasses.  For now I love this weather and this landscape.  Its December.  Its almost Christmas.  Come February I may be singing a different song.

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This is the view this morning of the rooftops across the street.  Just enough snow to frost the roofs.

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Gaston Bachelard writes about the poetics of winter and the poetics refuge.  He quotes THomas DeQuincy, snowed in a small cottage in Wales (and smoking opium).

 “Isn’t it true that a pleasant house makes winter more poetic, and doesn’t winter add to the poetry of a house?”

And that is the essence of the charms of winter: being inside looking out.  And a fireplace is essential for truly enjoying a cold, gray day.

This is where I spent the day.

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 And here are several more rooms in which I might enjoy settling in on a winter day.

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