Winter

Winter.  I used to love winter.  Now it is pain, and cold. I wrote this long ago.  At least one of you will find it familiar.

      Out where I grew up it is very dark at night. Sometimes if you are lucky the moon shines through the tree branches enough to light the way. It is a strange place at times; it has its own life and energy. I have never understood it, not even today. This place has a secret. A secret not meant to be discovered, or at least not by me. I walk the forest trails and see things move out of the way, but I can never see them directly. These things slither, crawl, and jump through the brush.

      When I do happen to see these creatures, they look at me with more knowledge in their eyes than I would expect. It is startling, not only because a doe may have just jumped out of nowhere in front of me, but that she has a vigilant look in her eyes. It is an earthy look, full of grit and survival. The desperation of knowing that a year from now her life will be different, or over.

      Everything here moves with purpose; no energy is wasted. I can get caught up in it. If I let go and listen to the night, and if I let those primal urges of want and desire flow into me, my eyes grow large with fear and flight. My heart pounds as I place myself in the wildness that surrounds me. I can feel the desperate pull to be savage, ruthless, cunning, and unclean. I long for scratches and torn skin, to feel blood flow. I want to show this place that I can take it. I want to scratch bark and piss on the borders of my claimed land and fight all that dare cross it. I want to show that I will be fat by winter and will emerge alive and victorious in the spring…

There have been years, including this one, where I have wondered how I was going to make it to the other side.  I watched my Dad approach winter in 1999 knowing he wouldn't be making it out on the other side.  The green of Spring is very much missed, opening day (MLB).

Where is this going?  I don't know.

These are the things i think about:

The mountains I want to climb.
The people I have lost. Either by death, or some other reason.
Green.
Rotten logs
Fence lines
Bugs
Old barns and houses
What is passing through in the night where i was the day before.

I am done for now.