Joy

This is what joy looks like.

On Sunday night, it snowed.  Though trudging down the sidewalks through the white fluff is no fun, the wintry world looks more beautiful with snow on the ground.  There’s a sense of newness and brightness that fresh snow brings, making dark days and dark times seem bearable, even happy.  

Snow is magical when it comes out of nowhere, when you’re asleep during the dead of night and a blanket of condensation lays upon the Earth.  Snow stimulates activity and creativity.  There’s a certain romance of walking in a winter wonderland and for those in search of ideas, looking out the window at snow is much more inspiring than looking out at dirty gray melt.

The winter wonderland melted away as fast as it arrived.  Last Monday I walked across the Franklin Avenue bridge in 40-degree weather, wearing my Baracuta jacket as if spring were right around the corner.  Yesterday, I donned an equally transitional ensemble that seemed unlikely in the morning, where cold and snow were the order of the day.  Groundhog Day is on Thursday, and then we'll know for sure whether early Spring will stick around.  At the very least they're nice to get reacquainted with, from packs of runners trotting down River Road (who I later joined after errands) to the hundreds of crows perching in the trees before flying upstream in formation.  Such are the marvels of the Earth we forget about when rushing through life, preoccupied and hurried.  Even though the beauty of the morning turned a bit gray, a different kind of joy swept through the soul, an attuning to nature that makes one appreciate the present instead of ruing what's gone.

Joy is accessible.  Joy is mindful.  Joy is kind.  Joy is impermanent, but even two minutes of joy per day is a reason for hope.  Joy is always in style — just ask Fred Astaire, even if some of us think we’re too cool for it.  To know joy is to be able to swing, to accept the ups and downs and embrace elation when it arrives.  Joy may come through a new outfit, the first bite of a great meal, a startling saxophone solo, a meaningful passage in a book, great art, shadows in a coffee shop or the simple silence and awe of a winter walk.  If we choose presence, we find this joy and don’t need a grand, sweeping moment for it to enter our lives.

Jacket: Barbour, Scarf: Vintage

Location: Spyhouse North Loop, Franklin Avenue Bridge