a wintering soul
it is deep winter.
temperatures over the past few days have not risen above freezing.
walking outdoors in a breeze feels like the skin is shearing off your face.
the horses are eager to be turned out, eager to cut loose and be free.
when released they snort, kick, buck, gallop, rear, engage in horseplay.
two hours later they are lined up at the gate, hoping to be the first brought in.
all living things are feeling the cold.
it is deep winter in my soul as well.
while nothing is wrong, nothing is quite right, either.
the steadfast little flame that burns so bright is dormant, wintering.
there is a sense of non-engagement, passions lying low.
i know, trust, that a sudden spark will ignite again without warning.
the hard part is the wait.
i don’t give in easily.
while i’ve learned not to fight the seasons of the soul,
i’ve also learned not to turn and retreat.
there is an apple/blueberry pie almost ready to come out of the oven,
because baking brings its own warm comfort.
i’ve spent time reading, and must say that the help is hard to put down.
we watched the sandpiper last night,
and that has spun me back to another place and time
that is very much a part of who i am.
and i spend time with those
who do not mind a bit of wintering.
walking the creek path this morning we spotted a large hawk,
feathers fully fluffed against the cold.
i took it as a sign that i am not the only one
nursing a wintering soul.
as much as i try to live in the moment,
to appreciate now while it is here and let other moments come as they may,
right now my soul yearns for spring,
for sunlight and new growth,
warmth and re-emergence.
yet when the spark ignites once again,
deep winter will seem like the most beautiful season of all.