I’ve hung the new, 2015 calendars in all our rooms. Each one has a different theme and set of glossy photos. There’s the one with shots of wildlife and another with glorious beachfronts. Then there’s the one with cartoons from The New Yorker. Each one tracking the days, telling us the next saint’s day, or school vacation, or phase of the moon.

And, I have already dutifully scrawled on the times for the next doctors’ appointments and piano lessons. Counting the days….

But there are other ways to gauge the time. There must be a reason that seed catalogs typically arrive in the mail right after Christmas. No doubt it is profitable to get the order forms out early. But for me it also eases the low mood of these first, crisp weeks of January. And I want to think it starts the New Year with a promise—reminding us that the days of winter are numbered.

There is the first peak of watercress in a February steam to tell you of spring. And the steady strum of crickets to tell you of the approaching autumn. There is the first snowflake and the last. The day the kestrels return in spring and the day of the first bloom of goldenrod in summer. These things will also tell you the time.

This morning the thermometer registered five degrees on the porch at seven o’clock. It is our region’s first, raw winter cold snap.

The clocks and phone were blinking from an unnoticed power outage during the night. I had to get my daughter to exchange her knee-length leggings for blue jeans before the school bus arrived. What is it that makes kids refuse to wear a winter coat? Today she left with her coat on—stepping out into the glittering snow with her black velvet boots but no hat or gloves.

The day has warmed with pale sun and a blue sky. There is the cold wind still swaying in the treetops.

And I have spent the last hour looking at the new seed catalogs with their shiny photos of tomatoes, eggplants and (ever cheerful) radishes. It is the poet in me that loves reading the vegetable names. Consider the names of classic heirloom tomato varieties such as Mortgage Lifter and Giant Oxheart. They speak for themselves.

I copied out all the catalog numbers in black ink on the order forms. Our order included the old standbys like Black-seeded Simpson lettuce and Heavenly Blue morning glories. But, this year I added a new order for bachelor’s buttons and a variety of Oriental poppy. I wrote the checks and sealed the self-fold envelopes. They are stamped and ready for the morning’s mail.

And so, the year begins. Best wishes, warmth and safe travels to all.