“Chill airs and wintry winds! my ear
has grown familiar with your song;
I hear it in the opening year
I listen and it cheers me long.”
I can pretty much guarantee that he wasn’t sitting in Chicago at the time. I think Shakespeare was putting it mildly when he wrote of winter, “Thy breath be rude.” Here in Chicago it’s downright diabolical!
Who needs sub-zero readings on the thermometer and winds that cut you in half like a knife. We need to throw off the mittens, scarves and extra sweaters. We need some heat. We need a touch of red.
Red, to me, speaks of blazing tulips, the smell of roses after the rain and luscious, ripe strawberries. I picture a red and white checkered tablecloth spread for a picnic in a field of bright poppies. I can imagine sitting under a red beach umbrella, feeling the warm sand between my toes.
I want to watch a flaming sun as it sets on a perfect summer day. I want to savor the sensation of tasting fresh-picked raspberries. I want fireworks on the 4th of July, cherries and fragrant carnations. I want red!