daffodils

Sometimes I wish I were one of those folks who adores winter. As much as I try to embrace chunky woolen sweaters, concocting long-simmering soups, and the feeling of being safely ensconced by the low-hanging grey clouds, instead, I feel a sense of impending doom as February drags on. I shouldn't complain too much, as I live in Nashville. But really, it's all relative.

So in order to stave off  Seasonal Affective Disorder, I've continued to hike at my favorite park. For the most part, this has proven successful, and I do enjoy the sculptural quality of the winter landscape.

This morning's hike, which happened to be on a particularly gloomy day, rewarded me with the intense curves of wild grapevine, some whippet-thin, others burly enough to swing on, tangles of branches tramped down by wildlife and stuffed with twists of papery brown leaves. Limestone boulders covered with lichen comforted me with their visual reminder of how sturdy and practical the backbone of mother nature is.

And some things are simply more beautiful in the winter. Neither the mottled chalk-white bark of sycamore limbs punctuated with dark drifts of abandoned twig nests, nor the slick, reddish thorns of a honey locust tree need to compete with the glossy leaves that will soon cover both trees.

As I rounded the last bend of my hike, absorbing all of this spare beauty, I spotted a few daffodil stalks pushing their way through a patch of bronzy leaves. The gentle curve of these stems with their papery skins protecting the inevitable buds delivered that little boost that I fiercely needed. Knowing that these stalks will scarcely garner a blip of acknowledgement come full-blown spring made them that much more remarkable to me.

In my studio, I wanted to capture the gradation of the stalks' greens, from the palest onionskin white to their juicy-jade tips, so I created little sterling "stalks" of varying sizes, drilled and shaped each before oxidizing them to a black that only winter could embrace. I then sanded the tips, giving each an ombre effect. Finally, I added a tiny green garnet by the clasp as a nod to the beautiful spring to come.

So let there be dark bits, bright bits, smooth forms and curves. Much to love in all seasons.

This necklace is $138.00  Please click here for more details about it.