All I can see of the Wasatch Mountains today is a faint outline. Same for the Oquirrhs to the west. The smog has swallowed them. It’s gone on far too long — a winter smogfest and temperature inversion going on three weeks now. The air is so chalky, sooty thick I gave up my outdoor run today and looped around an indoor track for five miles. I felt like a hamster rolling one of those exercise balls around a room.

So, I give you two of my favorite escapes from January depression. Both involve living things, which is good, because my soul is starting to wither in this weather.

First, meet Pete, my resident downy woodpecker:

Pete visits the suet cake hanging from the cherry tree outside my kitchen window several times a day. I hear his rhythmic chirp, then watch him hop backwards down the tree trunk until he reaches the limb with the feed basket. I noticed Pete when this wretched cold snap settled in just after the New Year. The scarlet brush stroke on back of his crown is the only real color in my front courtyard this season. Pete knows he’s found the mother lode of woodpecker feed, and judging from his territorial behavior, he’s not up to spreading the word about his little oasis.

Second, this is my black jewel orchid on a moody January afternoon:

This flower gives me great joy. Why? My stepdaughter gave it to me for Mother’s Day two years ago. And also because I thought quite seriously of dumping it in the trash last year when it seemed stuck in limbo and wouldn’t bloom.

Turns out the thing was just dormant. I nearly fell over when I noticed its tiny bloom sprouting a few weeks ago. I’ve admired its lacy white blossoms all month. This orchid has taught me a bit about patience. I mean, as much as we might try, we can’t force the direction of a river. And we can’t rush a winter orchid into bloom, either.