Peek into Panola
By Vina Lee
January
Fahrenheit plunges East Texas into the 20's as the gray waters of Lake Murvaul slosh against its sod banks. The sky mimics their color as rain laden leaves succumb to decay as if digging into the rich earth in grim attempt to live again.
Eagles and vultures soar under a cloudy dome, swiping at the pines beside stripped oaks with skeletal limbs stretching as if to embrace the sun out there somewhere beyond reach. I see no movement of rodents, rabbits or squirrel. Nature seems to sleep in this cove where chimneys direct wood smoke into the air sending a welcome scent to the freshness of clean air.
No turquoise fishing boats dot the shore, no folks home between jobs sit with cane poles at their favorite fishing holes. I look into the distance, searching for the promise of spring. There is no color. Oh! Wait! There. There in the distance a red flag, no...a crimson leaf clinging to the highest sweet gum branch!
I am thrilled! Life only naps beneath the cold of winter's hush.