Yogis,
No matter how many years fall turns to winter, it catches me
by surprise every time. This was the week
old man winter paid a sudden visit to our area.
Thursday the temperatures plummeted. Friday began in the teens and only inched
itself up into the twenties, with an unforgiving stiff breeze, and finishing
off with a light coating of freezing rain. A walk around the block left my face and
fingers numb. But he can be a little fickle. Saturday and Sunday brought balmy
temperatures once more, but he is back in town this evening.
It’s as if I got a tap on the shoulder and turned to find
him winking at me. ‘You didn’t forget me,
did you?’ he seems to say. But the truth
is I had. I had forgotten once again the
bite he can deliver. That desire to dive
back into bed and pull the covers up over my head. No amount of layers keeping me from shivering.
It reminds me of when I went into labor with my second
son. My first experience had been like
most first births……. 24 hours long and amazingly painful. It took a few years for the memory to fade. Thinking
I remembered what it felt like, but I didn’t. Which is why second and third children exist…… But that first labor pain with my second
child was like the tap on the shoulder bringing it all rushing back in. ‘You didn’t forget me, did you?’ But honestly I had.
This week in my Friday night ‘time for me’ as I stuck my
body out the bedroom window I braced for the bitter cold. I closed my eyes to breathe it in. As I opened them back up I noticed how once
again, with all of the leaves down and the air so clear, I can see the houses
that surround me. Together the back of
our homes form a circle with the woods as our center. All of us with back walls comprised mainly of
glass. Close enough to be able to sense
movement and life within each, but just far enough that none of us feel
compelled to limit our view with any curtains.
A community – yet we haven’t
met. All waking each day to the same
view and falling asleep to the same noises. When the leaves fill back in…..I will once again forget.
As I lean out, my heart racing, exhilarated by the cold on
my skin I can hear the scamper of the fox playing. I know the squirrels are all burrowed deep in
their nests high in the trees. I sense our small herd of deer will pass through
soon. They too can now see us all.
And old man winter is right in there smiling. ‘Time for us all to get reacquainted’ he says
with a wink.
Now I remember,
SARAH
SARAH
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