Old Man Winter

The winter day which has filled the air full of a fury of falling flakes of white. Like tiny parachutes cascading down from the clouds carrying specks of ice that land upon my nose with a tickle until my flesh warms them to water. They roll down my cheek with a soft sparkle of icy wetness that echoes through the air, erupting between the clouds in the sky full of falling powder. Like a flurry of peddles from a thousand tiny flowers, which glide in the breeze like a kite caught in a draft. The hard surface of the streets seems softer as if brushed with cottony white of snow, leaving a trail of footprints which track the endless parade of workers bustling off to their offices of glass and steel. The golden sunlight now aglow off the green river and shimmers with a delicate fiery reflection from the heavenly star of the sun, but brings only a small sense of graceful warmth upon this part of the earth. Yet the humm of the urban landscape never ceases, motoring thru the elements and shadows. The eruption of artic wind is unseen, but felt down to the fibers of my being. The foggy white clouds of ivory tear apart high above the pitter and patter of life, yielding a dry copper blue sky empty of animals while a few pigeons peck for crumbs as I sip on my steaming coffee and attend to each step I take so as not to slide on the slick city streets. I stare at the frigid lake waters that are blue as night now, dusted with a thin sheet of shimmering ice, crusting the surface, turning liquid to solid. The temperature contracts the infinite drops of water and shrinks the size of the lake, but the icy frosting on top adds substance to the searing polar liquid. The wintry wind expresses unfriendliness and disdain, seen on the faces of people burrowing down the street wrapped like mummies, bulging like the Michelin man. The warm seems to make everything friendlier, as I huddled among the other commuters under the heat lamps on the train platform and there was a collective shout let out as the timer went off and the lights dimmed. And with it the heat fizzled, then there was a resounding simple sigh of relief as the button was pushed. The warmth continued to bedazzle our bodies, melting away the coating of cold that enveloped us for that brief moment, bringing back the cordial smile as we breathed in the soft tender light. As tomorrow turns to a fine, fair, cloudless day of abundant sunshine and that has got me thinking spring. The groundhog predicted it’s early arrival and in my mind’s eye a lovely drooping willow tree can be seen, in the calm reflection of crystal blue waters, surrounded by exotic flowers of plum purple, banana yellow and strawberry red. The only sounds I can hear are the bubbling stream and tweeting birds, as my breathing relaxes like a sunbather lying in the soft warm golden sand full of thoughts floating with dreamy happiness. Like a bumble bee seeking the sweet nectar, I hunt in my head of the images of spring and anticipate the warm breeze, as the sunrise begins earlier each day while hearty flocks of birds continue to sing their morning serenades. As the cycle of life brings warmth found in the butterflies dancing, the flowers growing, the wind gently blowing, people playing, boats floating, fish jumping, kids splashing. All the beautiful wonders born of mixing colors as the seasons turn like the earth’s rotation. Life springs anew from unbound animation reflected in the shimmers of light, releasing a whisper of joy, a soft soothing sound found in the trees and the rustle of grass, touching the tips of flowers, knocking their petals as though they were wearing hats, winding, swirling, twirling, and spiraling to the ground. The new day amber lights chases away the dew of the misty dawn, light cutting through the air like soft whispering sighs that reflects the orange hued light of the rising sun, overlooking the clear jade tinted waters, the surface of mysterious unknown destinations, as I escape into these simple moments, where all the world requires of me is to sit back and take in what is offered, with a ceaseless grin and a laughing voice.
By Aaron Karmin