Thursday, December 2, 2010
It's puzzling how something so breathtakingly beautiful can be so miserable and unpleasant. Sure, I like to take the children sledding, and watch them enjoy themselves in the snow. But after about 20 minutes and a few snapshots, I'm over it. The freezing takes to my chest, and wheezing replaces breathing. My nose starts to run and I want to go home.
In some ways, winter feels like the death of things; still and cold, rigormordus setting in, stiffening the flesh and bones of the city. My creative self goes into hibernation, due to my inability to go outside daily for the long walks that inspire me.
I can only stand being out in the cold for a short period of time before my nose starts freezing and my head fills up with cold, and then there's the likely possibility of me busting my accident-prone ass on the icy sidewalk.
To breathe the crisp winter air at 17 degrees with a wind chill factor of negative 6 is not my idea of fun. Or refreshing.
So indoors I stay, where it's warm from the fire and the soup and the bread baking in the oven.
But of course, with death comes rebirth; a [shaky] transition that offers bee buzzes and butterflies, light and rain, and the inevitable warming up of things. Just like us, Earth, same in spirit, flaunts its new shell. Light, water, growth, and it's like the cold never hapened. It's like life never died.
SO looking forward to spring, but enjoying the beauty in the meantime.