It’s the MONTH of cold and gray, and I feel dragged down. Looking out the window, I struggle to find a bright spot, a sprinkle of color, a PINCH of spice. And then I see them: the little finches with their reds and browns, the sassy wren with its plump body and tilting head, and the haughty blue jays swooping in to grab a peanut. On a BENCH, its tail held tight against its back to ward off the bitter cold, a squirrel eats with a focus and concentration worthy of any worker settling down to a well-earned LUNCH. Taken out of myself, my spirits lift and I bustle about, looking forward to replenishing the feeders. Winter is transformed from threat and misery to happy opportunity.

Georg’ann

Salted eggplant slices laid out
on a dishcloth to SWEAT,
a measure FOUND to decrease bitterness.
These creamy round disks,
with speckled, seedy centers
ringed with deepest black-purple skin
await the dredging and dipping
into flour, egg, breadcrumbs.
Extra care in how I prepare
lest we INCUR judgement as we MUNCH.
An epicurean has been invited to LUNCH.

Heather