I remember not
When the Aspens stood green and tall
Before the wind muffled their shadows of summer
Before the cold struck them
And the barren promise of winter
preyed upon their naked bodies.
The glow of autumn gold
Unmoved by the gentle breeze
That ushers in winter
I have been waiting for what seems like eternity for winter to fold itself over the barren landscape that seems like just yesterday was fruitful and robust.
As the days drag on, without a whisper of snow, I feel trapped in a limbo sort of existence that seems as if it will never end.
I’ve been looking forward to the time of year when hearths are warm and fires are bright. When nature takes it’s turn to rest its weary soul, and I too, take a break from the busyness of summer.
With guests now gone, excited with the promise of cold, I don myself in wool and fleece and pretend old man winter is coming soon. How I long for the days when he shows his fierceness and invites me to also take my pause. I cherish the solitude and welcome it’s embraces. I take my time now and listen for I know the winds and the snow will arrive any day.
It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men’s hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanates from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.’ Robert Louis Stevenso