Sometimes when you come home from work
you need to leave on your down vest…and scarf and boots.
Sometimes you need to take a look out the kitchen window at the woods, mid-way
through loading the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher...
…and acknowledge the something that stopped you in your tracks...
maybe it's the way the sun is playfully dancing across the pines….
…reminding you that the days are indeed getting longer...
…or perhaps it's the junco sitting on the railing of the porch, watching you…waiting to see if you choose regiment over spontaneity…
….whatever the reason, you cross your fingers that your camera isn't flashing low battery, and you head outside, knowing that daylight slips too fast in this first month of the year.
You step outside expecting the winter wind to cut across your cheeks,
yet the air is calm, and trees still.
You wander, knowing this place that monopolizes your spring, summer and fall...
this place with remnants of your heart…a stolen blossom, seeds dispersing...
echoes of your heart running like children up and down the hill.
You embrace the feeling,
drinking in winter's infusion of pure air and windswept grasses.
This time you once viewed as barren,
is instead an intermission only for nature.
And as you head back up the hill, with a knowing smile and numb fingers,
you understand why you were invited.