Today we reached the heart of Winter.
It was not the coldest day. Those are usually in January.
It was not the snowiest day, which can happen anytime, but prefers the fringes of Winter.
But there was wind, and cold, and even snow, blowing hard and pretty in a stark, low sunshine. I stood in a field of snow. Bare trees, silver and wonderful in the light, presided over nothingness, forgetting all life, but still here. Thinking.
I was thinking too. We weren't thinking the same things except that deep down we knew our vast differences had ceased to matter. My brothers the trees.
It is the heart of Winter because it feels like it has been Winter forever. No one is fighting it anymore. No one is full of anticipation for Spring, which is still too far away to believe. No one even talks about Winter anymore. It would be like talking of air, or gravity. It has always been Winter now and it will always be Winter.
I saw a bird huddling in the snow. Just a couple weeks ago it was 30 degrees colder out, but somehow it felt colder now. This was the spiritual coldest. And the bird stoically hunkered down, looked at me, and slowly blinked its eyes.
If we can live through this we can live through anything.
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