Yesterday seemed a particularly bright and golden day. (I was going to say, “compared to the rest of the country,” but that’s not fair — it was golden in its own right.) A long summer of excruciatingly hot days (way over 100 degrees) does have a bright side — winters that aren’t as bitterly cold as cooler climes. Although we’ve gone through a cold spell here in the desert, yesterday was warm and sunny and perfect for my two short walks.
Normally, I would have walked more, of course, perhaps even ventured into the desert, but I’m still feeling the effects of my New Year’s flu. (Though to be honest, it might not be the flu but the salad with Romaine lettuce I ingested the day before the symptoms began.)
But this isn’t a post to talk about dreary things. It’s a day for gold.
As I was striding backpackless up the street, I saw a bit of color out of the corner of my eye. I went to investigate, and lo and behold, there were these beauties, basking in the pale winter sun. I’m not sure if these gazanias are a sign of perseverance or the first tenuous hope for spring, but they certainly cheered my day.
Then later, when I took the other small walk, I ended up seeing not gold at my feet, but gold in the sky.
Robert Frost claimed that nothing gold can stay, but what does it matter as long as we have gold for even a single day.
Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Unfinished, Madame ZeeZee’s Nightmare, Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.