It appeared at a distance, then quickly advanced. In the sky, it looked like a hawk at first, but everything looked redder in the late day’s last bit of sun. The wingspan seemed larger than a hawk’s and as it neared I could see it was a bald eagle.

Might and majesty cresting overhead against a brilliant blue sky. This was the second one I’d seen in about as many months, and in the same area as well – they must reside in the nearby vicinity. A comforting thought unless you’re a fish or squirrel. Although if you’re a fish or a squirrel I suppose that’s just a small portion of the daily worries, especially in the winter.

When you boil things down to survival, so little else feels important.

Grasping for light and warmth in the basket of Andy’s car, I sit in contented silence as we drive back to the inn on a snowy Maine night. It is a moment of reflection for me, as Andy and my Mom hold their own conversation up front. I can only half-hear muffled words and occasional laughter. Sounds of solace on a freezing night. I’ve always enjoyed these moments – the cozy interior of a war car, a lavish coat around my shoulders, and a frigid world just outside the window.

The juxtaposition of comfort against an inhospitable atmosphere is a wickedly wonderful thrill – the way a cool bedroom makes the covers so much cozier.

On this evening, we are headed back for further thrilling contrasts – one of the unheralded and under-appreciated joys of winter. Still, I long for the months where the outside temperature isn’t this much of a drastic shift. The tease of March is right around the corner. In the meantime, I reach for the light…

The Swedes do this, or so I’ve read – these little snow forts hold candles and throw a warm light on a frigid winter night. What a charming notion – Scandinavia knows how to make winter into something magical. Perhaps the secret to happiness is somewhere on the path of finding light in darkness: happiness and purpose in the quest ~ the age-old idea of journey as destination.

There is nothing new in the notion, it’s the genuine realization that does feel like something different, maybe even growth. Another step toward the calm. Another stop toward the light.

Three bluejays were triangulating their coordinates around a birdseed bell that Andy had hung in the backyard. We’d been expecting the squirrels to commandeer it like they did in a matter of hours when we last hung a seed bell there, but the excessive snow may be acting as a deterrent. Better than greasing the string I suppose. The blue jays make for a prettier scene anyway, their plumage matching the sky and bringing some badly-needed color to the surroundings.

On a day when that pesky and infuriating groundhog saw his shadow – six more weeks of winter supposedly – these bluejays flitted around the backyard, giving me hope that spring is indeed on the way.

This is by far and quite easily the best news of the year: the first full trailer of ‘The Devil Wears Prada 2′. The teaser snippet didn’t have me entirely convinced, but I’m fully on board for this one now, which looks to be lighthearted, visually-stunning fun, with perhaps some gravitas acknowledging the twenty-year gap since the first film. A lot can happen in two decades…

As the full Snow Moon subsides, we clean up the aftermath and begin another week again. That’s life in winter – getting walloped by the weather and getting back out there. No matter how frigid it gets, we manage to do it. We are accustomed to it. We are fighters. We are strong. Here’s the weekly blog recap…

A very good plan indeed.

In the flickering candlelight.

Sun draining, sun gaining.

A sour smoke fills my lungs.

What’s Irish and stays out all night?

The word ‘parlor’ is Victorian porno.

January silhouette.

Harry Styles and his new Aperture.

A jolt of color and a check-in.

Our first winter visit to Ogunquit began with a stay at the Scotch Hill Inn, where Innkeeper Anthony kept us warm and cozy, and Mom celebrated her birthday on this snowy Maine weekend.

Lunar standing.

Sequin dreaming.

A super-short story that explains absolutely everything.

Dazzlers of the Day included Landrie Leone, Kathy Griffin and Nancy Lee Grahn.

It’s not that he doesn’t care.

It’s that he cares too much.

Full-moon fuckery abounds, as the Snow Moon casts its winter spell. Drivers have taken entire leave of all their senses, most especially the common kind, weaving dangerously into traffic like they’re the only ones on the road, or slowing to an inexplicable crawl of indecision and flawed safety judgment. The moon is also wreaking havoc with technology and what limited engagement I have with it, such as my phone, which is telling me the photo storage is full and then not allowing me to delete any photos. (The phone is over three years old so Apple clearly wants me to step into their next model and I just can’t with Apple right now – talking to you, pedofile-enabler Tim Cook.)

Frustrating, yes, and an opportunity for learning acceptance of bullshit – something absolutely necessary in today’s fucked-up world. That we should have to accept it is another question for Job – though I’ve forgotten the specifics of that story, if I ever knew them in college. I’ve referenced such things as ‘Waiting for Godot’ and ‘Waiting for Huffman’ whenever I’ve had to wait for anything, without knowing what happened in either. Empty facades make the best facades – one doesn’t want the mask to land with a thunderous thud. Better to have it slip lightly away on the wind, a will of the wisp flitting like a spark and disappearing before anyone can be sure it was ever even there.

Lunacy indeed.