Saturday, March 1, 2008

Under the Snow

Outside, the snow falls, a thin pane of glass separating comfort from cold, damp from dry. I shuffle through the memory box in my mind, trying to remember if I felt the chill as a child, sliding and skating, packing snow with mittened hands, fashioning three-tiered beings whose smiles of broken sticks were nearly more fleeting than one could imagine youth would be. Portends of time: melting away. Today, would I dare throw myself on my back in the snow, thrashing out horizontal jumping jacks to create a frozen angel? No. As if there were a maximum height limit on living free.

There is an old photograph of me sitting on a snow bank, a bundled-up child of 5 or 6. My parents kept the sun at their backs when they took snaps, better for the photo. My face is scrunched up, my head a bit tilted. I can't tell if I am squinting or crying, yet, despite the answer (the thousand words lost for all time), my memory box tells me I loved winter as a boy. And I will let it.

Now, winter for me is a time to long for spring, spring a time to long for youth, a time for a different dream. There is something sticky about placing the beginning of the new year in the dead of the frozen season, something odd. Surely the time of rebirth and reawakening can't take place under the snow, trapped in the deep frost. 'Tis the sun's healing light we need.

Or a shuffle through the memory box.


Make a wish, Dominic!


"Now that I have everyone's attention..."


Cat on an old dead log.


Waiting for the water nymphs...


A whole field full of invisible cows!


Fences and boundary lines, like winter and spring, delineate and detail our lives.


As always, thanks for stopping by and take care.

(Bottom two photos courtesy of Romola Alamed)



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8 comments:

  1. A lovely blog you have, with some great photos.

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  2. These are fantastic photos. That was a great back in time to summer.

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  3. I mean a great trip back in time. Sorry for the typo in my previous comment. Who is the little guy who looks like you when you were younger?

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  4. Thank you Jacqueline and Mary. It was fun browsing through some of our spring/summer photos looking for a few to post this morning. Quite a contrast to the cold whiteness outside...

    The little guy is my oldest grandson, Dominic. No weekend at grandma and grampa's was complete without a walk to Forest Park (where the photo was taken) back when we lived in Springfield.

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  5. I also enjoy your blog. Thanks for taking the time.

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  6. Dad,

    Beautiful sentiments. I will show Dominic the pictures when he comes home today. I love your writing style...it's so personal. Thank you for this. Love you.

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  7. It's good to find you back on-line, Mark. Your blog is always a good read with wonderful pictures.

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  8. Wilhelm, Cody (mzdaizy) and Barbara (sojourner): Thank you.

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