Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Snowy Day Solitude

I don't have it—but I'd like to.

In the warmth of the house I have kids who are snowbound from school hollering at every turn in need of something or fussing with each other and cartoons hopping and skipping across the television screen behind me and plenty of other distractions—and trust me the distractions just KEEP coming—but when I was staring out the side door this morning and watching the fat fluffiness collect on the lawn and then later on my hushed walk to the mailbox to put a few bills out, I realized where the solitude is—it's out THERE. Unfortunately, it's very COLD out THERE and not very conducive of staying outside for extended periods of time no matter how peaceful it is.

See, out there is a kind of muffled, muted alternate world. The ground is blanketed in glistening white and the only sound is the occasional car driving cautiously over the icy layer on the road or my snow boots crunching lightly over the fresh fallen snow. The snowflakes whisper solemn warnings as they swish past in hurry—"Move slowly...do not disturb...the earth is sleeping beneath our cold comfort and in our wintry embrace."

I wish there were some way to bring that solitude and honest peace indoors~ minus the cold and snow, of course. There's such a wonderful sense of connection to nature and the world around us when the is snow on the ground and falling all around us. It puts me at ease and I can breath a little easier, even as the sharp cold air hits my lungs on a deep intake. I exhale and feel thankful for the momentary illusion that all's right with the world as I allow the calm chill to bundle me in quiet resolution. It would be perfection to write under those circumstances, but as I said, I will NOT be staying out there for any length of time more than I HAVE to.

I hate to say it, but much as I've missed real "snowy" winters since I moved further south, I'll be glad to see this season go. Perhaps, for all my whining over past 8 years that I haven't seen enough real snowfalls and accumulation it came back to bite my tush. I think I've seen plenty enough snow to last me for a while again. I have a feeling the snow's not done with us yet though, even though I know most of are certainly done with it.

Spring is more than welcome here!

In fact, I'd be more than happy to have her for a house guest. She could pack her things and come stay with me until it's time for her job to truly start next month. That would be wonderful!

I don't mind Winter, really I don't, but I think it's time we part ways.

I see it as a time to rest before new growth begins. I feel new growth in my own life—hibernating beneath the surface, waiting for Spring so that it can awaken and break the surface~stretch its limbs toward the warmth of the sunlight and unfurl its leaves to dance in the breeze and turn its budding face to the great stretch of crystalline blue sky with a smile. That's what I look forward to.

It will come~ even though it seems we're buried beneath this white crusty blanket of Winter that will never lift off of us- it WILL come and I'll be so glad when it does!

Have a wonderful day everyone. May it be productive in ALL the right ways and bring you the solitude and comfort you need.


Purple Cow said...

Beautiful picture...haunting. Perfect for writing a romance novel? Is it not? But then again, I guess we always want what we can't have...It's a grey cement jungle where I live. How I'd love for all its blemishes to be covered by a white blanket!

Taryn Raye said...

Thank you—That's an actual photo I took on my way back from the mailbox of the backyard this morning. Glad you enjoyed it.

Hope you have a wonderful day, no matter the grey cement jungle. ;o)

Devon Matthews said...

You captured it perfectly. I've always said, there's nothing like the ethereal quiet of snowfall.

Taryn Raye said...

Thank you Devon. There is something to it, isn't there?