The idea of winter beginning on
December the twenty first is often made irritating by those perfectly
formed and wide eyed representatives of our species who are apparently
confined to well lit and enclosed spaces.
In my calendar winter begins on a cold day toward the end of November and
usually ends as days lengthen sometime at the end of February or early
March when Snowdrops and Daffodils demonstrate
probably in January there will be a period of weather that offers sixty
degrees Fahrenheit, and this is the temperature that begins to allow paint
formulated for plastic to manage those chemical transformations that
permit it to bond to plastic surfaces.
An over anxious mind might risk the process just as soon as the sun
emerges. And then in July the Parrish Blue mowing machine's plastic
bonnet would fail visual and emotional tests as it disperses shards of
paint in a manner that would likely be flamboyant.
Meanwhile there is an engine of great value in
wintertime that has become temperamental and its parts need to fill that
space now occupied by Maxfield Parrish's mowing machine. So it is
necessary to forego those temptations of now, remove the mowing machine from
its current location and return it to the barn.
There is a part of me that wants to leave
things just as they are until Maxfield Parrish's mowing machine has his
black seat and his bonnet correctly colored. And there is a part of me
that relishes the prospect of returning him to his winter quarters because
current belief sees him as quite able to make this jaunty trip through the
horsepower of his own engine.
Tomorrow at 12:47 I will drive
Maxfield Parrish's mowing machine from where he is now to the
barn. The superstitious might call this an offering to the
Winter Solstice of 2009. But I will say nothing in case there is some
other part of Maxfield Parrish's engine that chooses to sulk.