Reflections from a walk around the pond
Well the snow has melted, and all around me spring is waiting expectantly for its chance to burst fully into bloom. All around me the silence of winter has turned into an excited rustle of frogs and crickets, like that of an audience waiting for a show to start. The wind whooshes around my ears and I feel the hint of warm riding on its apparent chill. All around me nature whispers as if to say "join us Ryan. Join us in our journey to renewal."
I am engulfed my its plea as my feet sink in to the muddy earth, the earth's juices seeping up between the fresh blades of grass. The trees are emotive, for their leaves are once more coming in to being. Their dry remains of winter are being jostled by the breeze and pushed away by the buds who come to claim their inheritance. The branches stretch toward the sky after being held hostage by the snow for so many months. Their bare frames that were once rachitic and gray against the white winter landscape, now look like thin brushstrokes against the vast blue sky.
The old leaves that once populated the tree branches of poplars, birches and cottonwoods are now strewn and mashed on the ground. Fallen in Autumn, they remained hidden under the icy touch of winter, but now the leaves have come again and are slowly joining the earth from whence they came.
Around me there lay other souvenirs of a year now gone: bark, wood, old weeds, ashes from an old fire, and a child's old doll, still smiling though its faded colors. All around are footprints. I see the marks of a large hiking boot, and that of a small ladies shoe. Many animals have also been through here, a big dog, different birds and rodents, both rabbit and squirrel. All these traces were once hidden beneath mounds of bleak snow and are now revealed. Perhaps spring will also bring to light other truths that have been hidden under the starkness of winter.
I am engulfed my its plea as my feet sink in to the muddy earth, the earth's juices seeping up between the fresh blades of grass. The trees are emotive, for their leaves are once more coming in to being. Their dry remains of winter are being jostled by the breeze and pushed away by the buds who come to claim their inheritance. The branches stretch toward the sky after being held hostage by the snow for so many months. Their bare frames that were once rachitic and gray against the white winter landscape, now look like thin brushstrokes against the vast blue sky.
The old leaves that once populated the tree branches of poplars, birches and cottonwoods are now strewn and mashed on the ground. Fallen in Autumn, they remained hidden under the icy touch of winter, but now the leaves have come again and are slowly joining the earth from whence they came.
Around me there lay other souvenirs of a year now gone: bark, wood, old weeds, ashes from an old fire, and a child's old doll, still smiling though its faded colors. All around are footprints. I see the marks of a large hiking boot, and that of a small ladies shoe. Many animals have also been through here, a big dog, different birds and rodents, both rabbit and squirrel. All these traces were once hidden beneath mounds of bleak snow and are now revealed. Perhaps spring will also bring to light other truths that have been hidden under the starkness of winter.
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