She tapes up picture from calendar by the sink. Ice ferns spread delicate fronds across the window pane. Steam from sink blurs patterns into condensing smudges. Plunging hands into stove heated water, she stops shivering for a moment. Washes up plate and mug. Knife.
Stokes stove before she bundles up to get more wood. Bitter wind takes her breath away; her eyes almost frozen shut. Don’t loose your way, she thinks, remembering stories of frozen bodies dug out in the spring.
Filling her arms with sticks and logs, she follows her footpath to back screen door slamming in the wind. With a kind of balletic grace she grabs the door, pushes in on the old wooden door with it’s squelching arthritic hinges while balancing her pile of wood. One stick clatters to floor.
Sitting as close to the stove as she can, she wraps her hands around another mug of tea. Mist rises from cup, enveloping her in a fragrant haze. She closes her eyes and imagines fields of poppies. Like her calendar picture. A sea of orange on which to sail. Sun warm on bare skin. “California dreaming on such a winter’s day.”
for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Photo Challenge # 97.
The Mama & Papas: California Dreaming