Why are winter mornings so heartbreakingly special? They’re sure cold, at least around here. And with the snow you’d think they’d be white, too. But they aren’t, are they?
In the morning there is a tinge, a golden … no a yellowish cast to the snow, the sky, and the trees. It is more like those catalog pictures of yellow diamonds. You know… the diamonds we don’t really want because the ladies don’t want anything but the clear diamonds, but the ones that look more interesting because there’s some color there?
If men bought diamonds for themselves, we’d probably go for the yellow ones, because they’d remind us, even in the broiling heat of summer, that a morning in January has a yellow-diamond cast to it.
And the evenings are special, too.
When the sun starts to set, the snow and the sky and the trees take on that glow that is a combination of orange and pink. It’s the singular color of winter dusk and makes us want to paint the walls of a cabin that color to remind us of the endings of winter days. It’s the color that’s so pretty we don’t even talk about it with other people because it would sound kinda silly. In Alaska, they call it “alpenglow.” It’s as good a name as any.
Isn’t it strange how these wintry days that are supposed to be white and gray and dull and depressing are still able to give us these two delicious colors we can tuck away in our memories and trot out when we need them?
Let’s hope we can give each other special little memories this month that we can use when we need them, too. Seems like the right thing to do.
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