We are on the edge of a winter blast descending. Just in time for Christmas!
Except, the promise is that by Christmas day, it will turn less frigid but not balmy.
It is the winter season here at the foot of the Canadian Rockies. Temperatures climb and plummet. Climb and plummet. And we adapt. And even in our adaptations we accept, grumbling is acceptable. Grumbling can be the norm.
Skies hang grey and sullen, clouding the sun like a teenager sulking in their room after being grounded.
Ice is slowly inching out from the river’s banks and gravel bars closing the gaps between land and water.
And the world waits.
My Saturday mood is full of anticipation. We are putting up the tree and decorating tomorrow evening. My youngest daughter, hopefully C.C.’s son and girlfriend and maybe even my sister and her husband will join in the festivities.
For me, this is Christmas. It’s not about the gifts. It’s about. gathering with those near and dear to us, creating memories, sharing meals and laughter and being part of something magical that embraces us in its beauty and joy.
In this Saturday morning mood, the muse visited and I heeded her call…
Still By Louise Gallagher ©2022 Almost still water shivers held captive between a season of bounty losing its strength against winter ice lined up like an army ready to advance across the river’s flow captured by winter advancing with its relentless Arctic breath. Behind front doors strung with festive boughs and twinkling lights we wait still hopeful the light will return to winter burnished skies held captive within the longest night’s journey turning back towards the light. In the depths of long dark night of winter someone whispers a child is coming and the world holds still its collective breath captive in the hope this child will bring love, peace and joy for all the world to know winter passes, spring thaws, and summer blossoms turn with the season’s passing into autumn’s bounty.
Heavy, wet snow blanketed the dingy gray
Of tree skeletons standing guard over
Dingy parking lots, shoppers scurrying like ants
As they run from store to store.
Ah, winter solstice, just days away, I welcome thee.
The winds will blow away cobwebs of hurt and sorrow.
Snow, white and clean, will cover the dull gray of nothing.
New beginnings will slowly come to be, time to look forward.
LikeLiked by 2 people
So beautiful. Thank you. ❤
I liked this
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you JoAnne. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
BTW — when I try to ‘continue reading’ on your site I get a 404 error.
I love the words but find that the presentation is what drew me in.