Message in a Bottle #8
I get this way sometimes…
Any speed Iv’e gained screeches to a halt, momentum dries up like a sandy riverbed.
Things freeze over, numbing starts in my fingertips, creeping up my arms.
And winter and I haven’t been on the best of terms for years.
.
I think we all do it at some point, feel our tanks settling to empty and yet we keep trucking. We plaster smiles and squeeze every last drop of enthusiasm from the wine skin, but the brutal truth is, it’s been dry for weeks, months maybe.
.
I have aches and pains that I don’t tell most people about. And yet here I am and I’m not better than anyone one else. You see, I’m worse because I actually think I’m above some. Not saying it’s right, just being honest. Then I jump on the trends anyway because I can’t stand it any more, this feeling of being left out.
.
I think about cutting my hair. At least once a day lately. Maybe I will. Then again, I say that almost everyday.
.
Each year, I have to remind myself that winter and I are still friends. I take careful note of the things that fill me up as I come so close to breaking down on the side of the road.
.
The crystal parades, that start coming through my back yard around January, the trees’ gowns dusted on by the breath of a warm evening, the breath of God, and finalized with a snap of cold, all before I wake.
All the lights amidst the long nights of December.
The clear dawns, brisk and life affirming.
The blue shadows that hold my stare and capture my affection.
The fire of the sun burning red across lake ice or frozen inside icicles.
The fractures on the river, hissing with the sighs of a great slowing down of all things.
The gentle silence. Powdered in downy insulation, critters plod away to burrows and dens and the world sleeps.
Winter may be brutal and cold, but those that say merciless have not known the mercy in winter’s rest. Winter knows the importance of filling back up, more than any of us. Nothing in nature grows at all times and winter will prove so whether we like it or not.
Fair winds, following seas, and God bless,
—Ellie