Wednesday, February 12, 2014

The Winter Ash and on Dancing

Out of the coldest part of the Montana year,
the dance of seasons finds me, 
surprises me,
even startles me a little.
Like some sneaky and inky-eyed weasel out of the thicket, maybe a martin....
Or maybe more than sneaky.
 Like every late-twenties birthday after 25.
I feel a little inky myself,
a bit like these ol' pupils couldn't soak in any more winter light if they tried.
What is it about this time of year
 that makes me so....
The red-hot blood and pelt of my freckled and scarily-white skin
longs for warmer days, longer days.
My eyes crave the richness of the color green.
I am a slave to the scarce sun.
I care  less and less about how many white flakes fall
and more about what the ocean sounds like
 when waves crash against something solid.
Like a beach. Or a boat.
February is always the hardest.
It's the middle of this frozen bastard season. 
Not quite snowy, not totally committed to spring.
It's no-mans land for winter.
But the chickadees sing a little louder these mornings,
as if to solely gain my attention.
The air today is crisp and full of life,
A welcome break from the icy riff of weather we've been having.
The clouds zip by today as if they had somewhere east to be, and quick.
I feel a light hum of the day, a buzzing in my heart.
I hear chickens hollering in the distance,
wondering themselves when the white turns to green.
But rather than holler,
I've found a calmer sense of my mid-winter wanderlust.
I've found, today, a little winter dance rising in me.
A blue and beautiful sky to keep me,
for lack of a better word....
Time to dance when you feel like hiding,
TIme to sing when you fear the air won't hold a tune.
February' is not going anywhere.
And sometimes, it is really quite......lovely.

The Winter Ash: 
A set of sterling silver fan-dangles,
 all drippy and hammered, 
 with intricately carved Cinnabar beads. 
For your winter dance....
And any other time you feel your season needs a little pick-up and pep.

Happy February.
To the dance.