January's Austere Beauty

Today I did what I have done these past three years:  looked back in my blog at the first post where I mention this new corona virus (go here to read that January 30 post).  Today I also read some February posts, the ones where I was fighting off one of the worst "colds" I have ever had.  Today I read the symptoms from my February 2020 cold again, and the pounding headache struck me.  One of my colleagues from that time remains convinced that we all had Covid, even though it was early days, before we were admitting that it had entered the country.  She and I were both sick at the same time in February, as most of us at the campus were, and her bone-shuddering cough lasted half a year.

I am also struck by the fact that I went to work, where we were all snuffling and coughing.  Back then, I thought it was just a feature of winter to have one snuffling cold.  I didn't have many sick days, and they didn't accumulate, and I always worried about using them too early and then getting really sick.  Many of the people I worked with were adjunct and part-time, and if they didn't work, they didn't get paid.  Back then, our bosses at the school didn't believe that one could work from home--but we were about to find out that much of what we thought couldn't be done from a distance could be.

My current school is different, but that might be for a variety of reasons.  I do wonder if I was full-time, if I would have a different perception.  I'm also not an administrator--back in 2020, I was one of a four person team tasked with overseeing the daily operations of the campus, so I felt even more guilty if I was away.  Plus, if I was there, I could run interference between all the personalities which might clash.

I am so glad to be away from all that drama.

Yesterday I got in from my day of teaching at Spartanburg Methodist College and headed out for a walk.  I am struck by the quiet beauty of January.  I love the way the trees look without leaves.  Sure, I love the look of autumn leaves, but bare branches have a beauty too.  As I was driving home toward the mountains yesterday, I was remembering driving the same road back in 2022, just a few weeks before I broke my wrist, feeling besotted by all the spring green shades.  I love having landscapes to observe, landscapes that will change, and I love having seasons.  I always thought winter would be hard for me, but so far, it hasn't been.

Of course, we won't have a winter like people in Minnesota have a winter.  But I've loved even the colder days here.  Part of that is the knowledge that the colder days have a limited grip.

I thought of these thoughts this morning when reading this post by Rita Ott Ramstad.  She, too, is appreciating January.  I have always dreaded January, but this year, I find myself thinking, well, this isn't too bad.  Next year, as I face the end of December, I need to remember that January might not be as bad as I think.