Very cold, in the teens, and we have had blustery winds for a couple days now.
A few days ago there was a meteor that crashed into a lake in Siberia and the sonic boom broke windows and injured hundreds in a city near the impact. It streaked across the sky in a burst of light, trailing a white plume. Incredible.
This morning the first thing I saw as my eyes opened, was a streaking plume of light in the dawn sky.
Of course it was the contrail of an airplane, and I knew it, but I awoke with a shock, a little panicked after seeing the repeated news videos of that meteor blazing across the early morning Russian sky.
Usually when I wake up, I lie in bed watching the contrails meet the morning sun. I get quite a view of the sky from our large bedroom windows, and early morning is a busy time for air traffic here. If the sun is just rising and it is a clear day, there are six or seven pink tinted plumes crossing each other all over the sky, headed every which way. Local air traffic lumbers by, small aircraft zipping past the window, with the backlit plumy vapor trails behind them.
What a way to greet the day.
Then, I open the bedroom door to the living room and see the glorious burst of yellow light from the still blooming forsythia branches that I brought in to force back on January 31. It's been 20 days now, and all the other branches I cut have opened, bloomed, entertained me and scented the room for a while and are now gone.
The forsythia blooms on. Not a single little blossom has shriveled, no yellow petal has been lost. It goes on and on.
It's pretty exciting around here at dawn on a winter morning.