Enwrapped

This winter is cold. This morning's outside temperature is minus 5 centigrade.
Children are walking in this cold with red cheeks and white breath.

Frozen trees are beautifully white as if snow had fallen.

In the rising sun, streaks of smoke from chimneys of houses go straight up to the sky.

Each family's preparations....

The idea is fixed, here in Brussels, or rather in whole northern Europe, that winter means "gloom and a gray sky". Daily conversation with neighbors in the elevator is typically something like "It sure would be nice to see some sun."

The other day, when I said to a neighbor, "It's cold today, isn't it", she replied, "But I like it". She said, "Being 'enwrapped' by the gray sky makes me feel secure".

Of course, it is necessary to have this period. With the fog all over, it is very difficult to drive, but the fog hides everything that is squalid and everything I don't want to see, and I can bring myself into my own world of fantasy. I can also settle in a little, and concentrate my thoughts.

Trees in winter discard all their leaves, stiffen themselves, and endure the season. "Waiting for spring" is something commonly said, but it would be impossible without this winter season.

Let's bend our ears to Schubert's lieder. His string quintet in C-major reminds us the frozen winter air in winter and a clear blue sky.
Compositions of Brahms' late years・・. Intermezzos for piano. Chamber music. Clarinet Quintet. Violin sonata No.3−the same.
When winter deepens a bit further, it is good to hear Chausson's concerto for piano, violin and string quartet. I used to listen this piece in a car driving under the snowy sky in February. It was the winter of 1980 when I mastered Chausson's "Poeme".

On the other hand, it happens that I can't play a piece well which I played well in summer. My body feels like it might "shrink". It happened that my hands didn't move as I wished, while I played very well, sweating in the heat of summer.

I spent New Years Day at my mother's house. It was a busy 10 days with my children.
There were many events and Takaosan, where we went to pay our New Year respects, was incredibly crowded. Although I feel relaxed in the crowd in Shibuya, it is irritating to be forced into a queue through noisy loudspeaker instructions. On the way back, we strolled an a back road. In that way, I felt the greatness of the mountain, sensed the quietness and felt holiness of the place. I think this is the way how a natural religion developes.

An acquaintance sent an e-mail, saying this New Year he was on his own. I replied that to be alone would be relaxing.

He quoted Basho's haiku. "The morning glories fully bloom, and through the day the gate is locked". He continued, "I am not sure what this haiku really means, but if I may be so bold to guess at the interpretation, the haiku refers to passing the time quietly at home with the doors and gate locked on an Indian Summer day. It was just how I spent the time. I was alone, but I felt that I was quietly enjoying New Year's with my late father and mother".

I think he spent a nice New Year.
It feels nice to be "wrapped up" by world of fog or in the darkness.
My heart is getting warmer. My heart is filling up.
There are "reserves" that gives me the strength of Spring.