I can see clearly now.....

The cold is gone. I woke to the palm fronds rustling on the east side of the house. The wind is off the mountains. It's warm! At last! It's like a promise of good things to come. Happy New Year, everyone!

The holidays have been dank and cold around here. Our house is designed to lose heat, and it's done an admirable job. I'd be happy if I were a penguin. Thank you Diane, for gifting me that little space heater from the Safe Harbor office! It's been a life saver and my constant companion.

I've just been up to the roof terrace. At last it's DRY up there, not slick and heavy with morning dew. Morning light: I've come down to paint you a picture --

There's a waning moon hung high over the mountains to the east, which, as I write are fading from deep purple, to maroon, to smoky green. The sky above is quickening into turqoise and streaks of pink which is echoed in the geraniums on the balustrade and the visiting roseate spoonbill down in the estero. I know it's a he because his color is deep. He's surrounded by white egrets and some little ducky kind of paddly birds. There's a cloud of white-breasted, scissor-tailed cormorants careening around overhead. They've got boomerang shaped wings and it looks like a kite tournament.

All this reflected in the estero, which, as it's high tide, is filled and glassy. The houses and fishing village are upside down in the water, double dinghies, double everything. And piled up on the hills behind are buildings and houses I now recognize as places where friends live -- Roberto and Eddy's verandah, Arla's roof, Victor and Linda's place just hidden by that group of palms. And across the estero on the other side, our friends Nina and Bob have painted their cupola royal blue with a celery green base and a deep red rim. Gringo gulch is getting more color!

We're home and happy and looking forward to the coming year. Our nephew Forrest is coming down in a week, my sister from Alaska and her crew will be here the first part of March, and the youngest sister with husband and son in tow will be here the first week in April. It will be good to share with family as much as with friends. Here's wishing you, your family and friends, the very best of New Year's hope, filled with warmth, color and promise -- and maybe a roseate spoonbill or two.