I look out and see green, white, pale-blue and gray, the greenish radiance of lichen, and the gray to black bark on trees. I stretch my head and see the bright pink of metal flamingos adding a little brightness to nature’s palette. It is stunning, in a way, how season’s change affect our attitudes toward giving of ourselves, beginning jobs, completing that which we started, being civil and our disposition in general. The lake is steel gray and like steel we are often not willing to bend because it is not convenient and would take up too much energy. We have excuses. No need to enumerate. The Flamingos are constant, no matter the season. They are imitation, but can teach valuable lessons. They are just there and do not complain about the ice, snow, mist, rain, wind of the hot sun, which, by the way, is the source of all energy. No the metal birds teach and we learn, but also realize that there are those who closely resemble the birds in that they do not change in spite of reality, truth and the obvious. They are truly stuck in their ways. I look out now and see the sun’s rays on the western side of the trees, turning the snow from white to pink in color. A doe is searching for food, which will somehow be provided. She nibbles on my shrubs and finds them bitter. Moves on to more hopeful locations. They know, and they are animals. It is amazing how much we think we know and still have less sense than these deer. Stanski January 20, 2020 ^
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Steve Haarman 