Winter Southern Style

I walked in the snow at sunrise to get my Sunday paper. The clouds were so low, dark, and dense, I could not see the top of that small rise the natives call Red Mountain. I caught snowflakes on my tongue, and was grateful when I turned the corner and the wind was behind me. The outward journey had near frozen my nose and cheeks - the only exposed parts of my anatomy.

I’d put the coffee to brew before heading out, so on my return the aroma met me at the door. I warmed a quarter cup of chocolate Silk soy milk in a large mug and filled the rest with my spicy coffee (I add a dash of cinnamon and cayenne to my fresh ground beans).

The kitchen was warm as I’d turned the oven on to take the chill off, but I wanted more, so I started some black beans with garlic, onions, cumin, coriander and a bay leaf on the back burner - there’s nothing like the aroma of a bubbling pot on a cold winter’s day.

I sat on the bar stool of my kitchen bar and sipped my spiked chocolate silk coffee. As I pulled out the funnies and parade, I opened the window just enough to inhale the crisp air and feel the falling snow a fingertip away. I sipped my coffee and looked at Vulcan just barely visible in the distance. The paper could wait. It would still be there when this fleeting wonder of nature stops and fades to memory and a few digital photographs that cannot begin to capture the magic of it all.

The sun is out now. The street below my aerie window is almost dry. Where this morning, I needed hat, gloves and scarf and heavy coat to brave my morning walk, I just went to the store next door with a cardigan and beret.

It’ll be in the 60’s by Wednesday and the 70’s by Friday. Winter Southern Style – it's a fleeting thing.

© Perle Champion