Guest Blog by Frances Loubere *
It used to be the colo(u)r of a pallid sky and dog pee mixed with soggy leaves on clumps of tired snow. This was back in Birmingham, England where I grew up, and where just enough snow fell for it to be exciting, because then my father took us sledding.
January in 1970s Corvallis, Oregon wasn’t that different. Not much snow in the Willamette Valley. Drab. Damp. Dead brown leaves. Drippy oatmeal skies.
In DeKalb, Illinois, where Paul and I next lived, January colors were glorious and treacherous. Azure skies. Luring and alluring. Stabbing, searing, gleaming, glittering. White Witch white and slashed with ice. February then became the yellowed, lumpy-snow month. And March was a billion shades of brown.
The color of January in Port Townsend is much like those past dank, temperate Januarys with much more moss, but….
January 2021 promises to be VERY different.
As I write, I’m holed up at the end of December, which has usually been the color of black velvet with gold and stars – but this December is deadly nightshade. Cimmerian gloom. Charred remains. This December is the dark of “Nevermore”.
Wretched year! Poisoned, petrified, putrid, and paralyzed, by a pandemic, by grief, fear, exhaustion, and by batshit rot at the top.
Be gone 2020!
I’m in a shadowy tunnel – I peer through a portal into January 2021. Light pours through, and blinds and blurs. Is this the light of truth? Warmth. Is it from the fire of commitment? I feel both queasy and hopeful.
But, DAMN! I can’t see Georgia runoff or Congressional vote results – my Blog deadline comes before January 5. I can’t see Inauguration Day, let alone further into the year. Is the Monster GONE? The Pandemic diminished at least? Can QUUF open in August? What about vaccinations? And family visits?
Will love shine brighter than hate in 2021?
I remind myself: Future = mystery. But I do have optimism that the light beyond my portal shines from an enlightened, progressive, just, caring community, and not Proud Boys in flames.
2020 is extinguished but the power of transformation shines on.
So. What color is January 2021? The color of that light at the end of the proverbial tunnel!
*I took this photo while visiting York Minster in York, England. A Narnian wardrobe portal could have worked too!
Thanks for expressing what I feel Frances. I risk to additionally say that I, as a dedicated liberal, believe that one of the most important things I can do right now is encourage any courageous Republicans who are risking being put out of office to speak truth to their colleagues who could effectively restore civility and ethical behavior along with us.
I noticed, Frances, that all the above replies are from women; perhaps, then, it’s a good thing that we’re all in self-quarantine; otherwise you’d best watch your step! Your long-ago countryman once wrote: “Light breaks where no sun shines/Where no sea runs, the waters of the heart/Push in their tides.” We’re currently a bit sun-challenged, Frances, but there’s not shortage of tides in Port Townsend. Welcome aboard.
Thank you for the apt descriptions of 2020 and the hope for transformation in 2021. Georgia runoff results give me great hope. Vivid written images along with the perfect photo!
YES, agree – beautiful poetic blog! We need these kinds of creative reminders to get through this – Thanks!!
Frances, Thank you for this beautifully written visual blog.
Frances – just read your piece. What a great writer you are! I was right there with you in that shadowy tunnel. Thank you for giving words to our collective feeling ?
Thank you for your poem/blog, Frances. You succeeded mightily in describing this past year AND the light at the wardrobe portal. Bravo!
This is wonderful. Thank you, Frances.
Who knew so much could happen between your deadline and the publication date. Hanging in there for 12 more days and sharing your optimism!
Just got to belatedly read your blog. It is such a beautifully written, insight-full piece!
Thanks so much!