Monday, October 31, 2011

Hoping for Winter

I saw my first snow of the season this weekend, which prompted me to re-post this bit of prose that I wrote in college. It's rather stream-of-consciousness in style, so I apologize if the lack of punctuation frustrates you.

Snowy day at SUNY Geneseo

I think winter is magic -- all sparkles and snowflakes and wind chasing itself without even noticing you're there, it just runs right through you! and sunshine so bright it brings tears to your eyes and a feeling that you're living in the best place in the world and just as your ice palace begins to disappear, it is spring! 

Springtime is excitement -- waking up in the mist and the fog and your ice palace is really made of stone and moss and you realize that real life is somehow even better than what you were dreaming, it's my favorite season when we wear shorts in 50 degree weather and play in the icy mud but then it keeps getting warmer and springtime turns into rain and sunshine and sometimes both at once and people get their first sunburns and sometimes it is bitterly cold for a few days and then so warm again, as if nature can't quite decide what to do but through everything the grass is growing again and the trash from the winter is no longer covered by snow and it says "wake up! you're alive!" and there is a frantic rush of aliveness and suddenly it ends, and it's summer...

Summer is sunshine -- playing until it's so hot you don't want to move then swimming and being cold so you lie down in the sun and just soak up all the warmth you can because you have the time to do so and everything is slower and nights start early and last forever with your friends so close to you and even when you're busy planning and doing you know it's all just sunshine, effervescent and transient and suddenly eternity is over and it's fall.

Fall is a sigh -- sometimes a happy sigh, remembering something else and sometimes a sigh of slipping into the space between the lines of notes you're taking and wondering why most lines are blue but one is red and which line would you be if you were on that page? and all around you are the colors of death and the rain is cold and the wind sees you and coldly stares before rushing off to something else that must be done, this wind doesn't know the games that winter winds play, and you echo the sigh of the wind and the weak imitation of sunlight cannot even penetrate water so the puddles are black but you sit and you watch them until the edges start to turn white and then -- and then you KNOW that winter is coming and soon, very soon, it will all be a poem again!

 And so, I saw a snowflake today... and I laughed!

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