I am wishing for some snow this Christmas season. Today is so warm I have the front door open while I bake cookies but it seems wrong when it's Christmas cookies I'm making. Isn't the snow supposed to be blowing about the eaves, the wind howling, the fire blazing? But no, none of these is the case.
I know I should not complain. After all, winter is only a few days old and the cold and wind and all the rest will surely be here soon. In the meantime, I'll make do by sharing one of my favorite poems for this time of year, a poem written by Christina Rossetti published in 1904 posthumously, and set to music by Gustav Holst around 1906. I do not find winter bleak at all, but her poem captures winter so well--earth as hard as iron, water like a stone, snow on snow on snow. Beautiful. And spiritual too, with her