Lemmy finally got to see her real snow this morning.

Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetface.

Daily Painting

Maurice Utrillo
LE LAPIN AGILE (1938)

Daily Painting

Saul Leiter
SNOW (1960)

Daily Painting

Hans Andersen Brendekilde
A WINTER FOREST WITH A WOMAN CARRYING FIREWOOD ON A SNOW COVERED ROAD (ND)

Daily Painting

Charles Burchfield
WINTER TWILIGHT (1930)

JOHN KEATS
“To Autumn”

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,–
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

T'AO CH'IEN

Autumn chrysanthemums have beautiful color,
With dew in my clothes I pluck their flowers.
I float this thing in wine to forget my sorrow,
To leave far behind my thoughts of the world.
Alone, I pour myself a goblet of wine;
When the cup is empty, the pot pours for itself.
As the sun sets, all activities cease;
Homing birds, they hurry to the woods singing.
Haughtily, I whistle below the eastern balcony –
I’ve found again the meaning of life.

Daily Painting

Oleksandr Murashko
WINTER (1905)

Daily Painting

Arthur Wesley Dow
SPRING LANDSCAPE (1892)

Daily Painting

Louise Abbéma
ELEGANT WOMAN ON A WINTER'S WALK (ND/1880s)

Daily Painting

Claude Monet
THE MAGPIE (1879)

Daily Painting

Master Wenceslas of Bohemia
CYCLE OF THE MONTHS - JANUARY (c. 1405)

ROBERT FROST
"North of Boston"

I had for my winter evening walk-
No one at all with whom to talk,
But I had the cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow.

And I thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.

I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found.
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window but that was black.

Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation, by your leave,
At ten o'clock of a winter eve.

-

RAINER MARIA RILKE
"The Neighbor"

Strange violin, are you following me?
In how many distant cities already
has your lonely night spoken to mine?
Do hundreds play you? Or does one?
Are there in all great cities
such as without you would
already have lost themselves in the rivers?
And why does it always happen to me?
Why am I always neighbor to those
who fearfully force you to sing
and to say: Life is heavier
than the heaviness of all things?

M.D. Herter Norton translation

LJUPKA CVETANOVA
Yet Another New Land

It is so cold. Even those that have been married for over twenty years sleep together.

Daily Painting

Joan Eardley

JULY FIELDS (1959)

Daily Painting

Ferdinand Hodler
AUTUMN TREES (1892)

Photographer unknown

"Ecology of the Coyote in the Yellowstone" (1940)  

Tracks show how coyotes followed along a snow bank, bordering a road opened up by the snow plow, hunting mice which come out in the road from under the snow.

Saul Leiter

Snow, 1960

TOVE JANSSON

Moominland Midwinter

____________________

There are such a lot of things that have no place in summer and autumn and spring. Everything that’s a little shy and a little rum. Some kinds of night animals and people that don’t fit in with others and that nobody really believes in. They keep out of the way all the year. And then when everything’s quiet and white and the nights are long and most people are asleep—then they appear.