And here the earth is swathed in snow and ice and wet like a child born new to winter. And like a child it is innocent of all that happens with this new world when it opens its eyes to the skies. It sees things now it has not yet ever seen. It is only just here now, this winter. And the winters seem to grow longer now even though they don’t really. It is no different. It just feels different, as if the shortened days were even shorter but the weeks longer. Not much makes sense anymore. A person learns that now. The rhyme and reason of bygone days are now static and chaotic and perceptibly incongruent. The stories we are told on screens make sense only for the moment but will fade into the cacophony of opinion as they all do.
That was so beautiful, I am hesitant to leave a comment and ruin the beauty of it. But I thought you should hear that someone appreciates it.
I appreciate that more than you know. Thank you. :)