Red is the New Black

Happy February from unsunny California. I hope all of you are safe and warm this winter.

I’m writing to you today from my swamp…I mean home in the suburbs. It’s been pouring, to say the least. My backyard is one big puddle. Personally, I don’t mind the wet weather. A damp, dreary day — or week — gives me an excuse to curl up in front of the fireplace and read a good book. The torrential rain brings out my inner hermit in all her shy, quiet glory. Fortunately, I do not need to worry about mudslides where I live. Neither do I have a dog to walk, or kids to keep busy because they can’t play outside. Been there, done that, and I know it’s not easy!

Recently, as I was holed up one stormy night, (during one of many power outages, to boot!) I revisited The Red Wheelbarrow — a famous poem by William Carlos Williams. I read and studied it in college over 40 (!) years ago…but the rain miraculously brought it out of hiding from the cobwebbed recesses of my memory. It’s not lengthy at all…a deceptively simple wisp of a poem, in fact. Williams was a doctor in Rutherford, New Jersey, and wrote this poem after visiting a patient :

The Red Wheelbarrow

If you can imagine being in an English literature class and dissecting the heck out of this poem until you couldn’t recognize it anymore. That’s what English majors do. I’ve read that this is his statement about the importance of agriculture (he worked in the country). I’ve also read that he was known as a modern “Imagist” poet whose goal was to create sharp imagery using clear, precise language. In my own mind and personal interpretation, it seems to be an appreciation for the intense, yet simple beauty of the moment. He was being mindful before it was a buzzword. You almost feel as if you are looking at a photograph through his imagery.

Without going into too much of a William Carlos Williams tangent, I think he was on to something. Winter, and the rain, especially, has a way of intensifying mood and atmosphere. Simple objects and plants look almost otherworldly during a storm. Cold weather and bare trees force one to be introspective, to see things anew. I have become quite fond of gloomy days because they bring out the senses in a subtle way. I mean, the spring screams out “New Blossoms! Look at me! Whee!” and summer is “Yeah, I’m here, baby…everything is buzzing and blooming! Full speed ahead!” Autumn is ablaze in dying glory saying “I’m tired but I’m going to give it all I’ve got.” Winter, however, is like a slow cooked meal that requires patience. A supper consumed with candlelight, your finest china and heirloom silver. “Slow down and sit awhile,” is winter’s serene message.

Williams’ mindful poem also reminded me of an image from my days surviving east coast winters. I owned a heavy, red wool coat with big red buttons. The coat had a psychological pick-me-up effect as it always cheered me up when I wore it. Just the vibrant color made me feel warmer in sub freezing temperatures. The majority of New Yorkers dress in conservative business attire in navy blue, gray and black palettes. They blend in seamlessly with the gray buildings and canyons of steel. Don’t get me wrong, I had my fair share of dark neutral clothes. But that bright coat was my version of a big fashion statement. My shy self felt a little bolder as I hustled along Fifth Avenue with the masses.

Just think of all the iconic things that the color red has imbued: Little Red Hiding Hood, Valentine’s Day hearts, classic red lipstick, Dorothy’s sparkling ruby slippers in The Wizard of Oz, red wine (couldn’t help myself with that one!), a STOP sign, the classic 1956 French film, The Red Balloon, the romance of a dozen red roses, Elmo, our blood, Cardinals…the list goes on. 

As we are in the grips of mid-winter, I want to encourage everyone to see the beauty around you in subtle and not so subtle ways. Whether you’re skipping along a yellow brick road, rushing along the mean streets of New York City, or nesting in your own cozy home, take time to be mindful and appreciate the red wheelbarrows and white chickens. Spring arrives in the blink of an eye…so there’s still time to slow down before the onslaught of beautiful flowers, fluffy Easter bunnies and sweet baby birds take over. I’ll leave you with a You Tube reading of the classic winter poem, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening read by none other than the famous poet, Robert Frost, himself. Enjoy and stay safe!