The holiday glitz and greenery came down early this year. Their cheery efforts expended, they seemed, quite suddenly, out of place.
All I wanted to do, what it appeared so many wanted to do, was to move forward.
Through this time of limits, through these days of uncertainty and fear, I boxed away ornaments; unwound lights.
Making progress in the smallest of things, I began to detect change.
Sunlight stretching longer. New birds discovering our feeders. Vaccines being scheduled. A hush, however brief, settling over the earth.
I take time to build a new set for this play, our lives, which will unfold inside our minds and within our home over the coming months.
Gold shag pillows perk up a neutral sofa. A soft throw or three are stacked for snuggling, with more tucked into a cabinet nearby.
A book of poetry seems ideal for inspiration. I arrange it beneath an urn filled with pinecones and juniper, evergreens feeling warm against the woodwork’s icy white.
On successive shelves, I continue to layer the story. A souvenir plate from one of our exchange students, to remind us of the bigger world.
At its side, I place a plump, silver-sparkled bird. It looks off into the distance. The bird speaks to the notion of movement. Yes, movement seems possible – though for now, we must remain still.
Ceramic snow figures ascend the third shelf. Wrapped in colorful scarves, clutching skis, flowers, and satchels, they remind us that playful, sporting adventure can be found on even the coldest days.
And at the apex, I situate one of my favorite teapots. It is whimsical, a sunflower yellow vessel painted with a blue-trunked tree.
Each color and object, arranged in relationship, is itself, but is also transformed as part of the whole.
In this season of comfort food, visual balance is an intangible that can clear your mind and lift spirits, too.
From your peaceful nest, may harmony flow. (c)