This week started with my birthday and the apparently obligatory snow that accompanies said day yearly, without fail. We had a skiff back in November that made the ground white for about two hours . . . it wasn't snow. Now we have the real thing for the first time this season. This year the snow was brutal, making my birthday into a blizzard of pin prickly diamonds. Deadly beauty coating every surface, drifting into doorways and coating my wreath with a white garland of frost. Being completely mad with it, I took a walk. I love the first snow; there aren't adequate words for how I crave the crisp peace of the icy silence. A bit of death, a taste of life. The ultimate dichotomy. Glorious snow. My birthday was hard for a lot of reasons, but for a brief 15 minutes I stood in the midst of the storm, hair whipping to the four winds and felt the cold sink to my marrow. Then I went in to my warm home and husband, who laughed at my folly and then wrapped me in his arms and a blanket. I don't deserve him, truly I don't. I love this season, every moment a beginning or end, embryonic poetics fill the womb of winter.
and the water of my water bottle. Nature's fiber optics ... wish you could have seen this with the sun behind it, as good, if not better, than any prism. Perhaps the grading being done has gone to my head. Perhaps my fifth wedding anniversary speeding toward me on light wings has me giddy. I don't know why, and I don't care. Today I am happy. Complete. Joy.
This week started with my birthday and the apparently obligatory snow that accompanies said day yearly, without fail. We had a skiff back in November that made the ground white for about two hours . . . it wasn't snow. Now we have the real thing for the first time this season. This year the snow was brutal, making my birthday into a blizzard of pin prickly diamonds. Deadly beauty coating every surface, drifting into doorways and coating my wreath with a white garland of frost. Being completely mad with it, I took a walk. I love the first snow; there aren't adequate words for how I crave the crisp peace of the icy silence. A bit of death, a taste of life. The ultimate dichotomy. Glorious snow. My birthday was hard for a lot of reasons, but for a brief 15 minutes I stood in the midst of the storm, hair whipping to the four winds and felt the cold sink to my marrow. Then I went in to my warm home and husband, who laughed at my folly and then wrapped me in his arms and a blanket. I don't deserve him, truly I don't. I love this season, every moment a beginning or end, embryonic poetics fill the womb of winter.
and the water of my water bottle. Nature's fiber optics ... wish you could have seen this with the sun behind it, as good, if not better, than any prism. Perhaps the grading being done has gone to my head. Perhaps my fifth wedding anniversary speeding toward me on light wings has me giddy. I don't know why, and I don't care. Today I am happy. Complete. Joy.
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