Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Seasons

 

Another grey day.  As if the sky has melted the clouds and become an ashen soup of slush and grit.  The crystal flakes that drift about beyond the window have lost their glitter, the magic of the holidays buried beneath the leaden weight of frozen snow.  It always seems that Winter becomes a petulant child this time of year, vacillating between tantrums and exhaustion, dragging his feet and clutching at the world with claws of fractured ice.

I dream of spring.  I hear delicious whispers of warmth in the night and wake grumpily to the same arctic world I kissed goodnight the eve before.  I want to nap.  I want to sulk.  I want to move south.  Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live in a climate without the radical seasonal changes of Pennsylvania.  The pale green of spring that gives way to the lushness of summer that burns itself out in a rush of copper and ruby and gold before the ivory silence falls.  The calendar flips, the clock ticks, and if you endure....hold your breath and pace and wait...another season is just weeks away.  Trust me.

And such is life, really, isn't it?  Some seasons gloriously grand....some barren.  There are islands of paradise and deserts hellishly dry; monsoons and hurricanes and floods that threaten to drown.  Fields of topaz that stretch as far as you can see.  Days of darkness, days of bliss.

Sometimes you can anticipate the season ahead.  Sometimes it slams you to the ground with enough force to crack your bones and knock the air from your lungs.  Seasons of love, of despair, of passion or pain.  Seasons of stagnation and ones of spectacular bloom.  Some cause permanent scaring, some heal.  Some strip you naked and bare.

Some teach you to fly.

2013 was one of the most difficult years of my life.  There are more lines around my eyes now, more shadows in the periphery. 

But it's nearly spring....can you feel it?  As if the earth is stirring, the ground thirsty, poised on the brink of something new.  I'm here, crossing my fingers, holding my breath, and hoping....

Here's to a new season, my friends.  May yours be lovely indeed. 

                                   
                                                         Hope is the dream of a soul awake.
                                                                                                                      French proverb


23 comments:

Alison Agnew said...

I hear it in the birds' trill outside my window, but I can't feel it yet.

This sentence: 'As if the sky has melted the clouds and become an ashen soup of slush and grit.'

Every. Day.

The melt cannot come quickly enough for this frozen soul!

Alison
Nancherrow

Lyndsay Wells said...

Chantal, I needed to read this. I admire your writing so much - you create magic with your words. Wishing you a beautiful spring...

Mandy_Fish said...

Here's hoping that 2014 is Spring for you.

2003 - 2005 were my winter years. I shudder to think of them even now. But yes, I'm so much stronger for having survived that winter.

Wow, that was awkward said...

Sorry 2013 was rough. I'm sure you learned things about yourself and others that will make you stronger as the flowers bloom in 2014.

Stephanie @ Life, Unexpectedly said...

How beautifully written, Chantel. Winter decided to stay away from Germany this year, and so late fall is seemlessly blending into spring. I feel cheated. I wanted to go sledding, throw snowballs at the girls, go on walks through a winter wonderland. But instead, nothing. But there's always a new winter, after this spring, and summer, and fall. I love seasons, every one of them (except maybe when it's over 95° in summer), and I'm glad to live in a 4-season climate, even though sometimes it turns into a 3-season climate.

Wishing you a wonderful 2014, Chantel!

Chantel said...

Alison--amen and amen, the faster the better!

Lyndsay--thank you, I've known you now for years and love when you stop by!

Mandy--thanks, and I love the phrase, "the winter years." I think I might tuck this time away under that lable.

Brett--amazing what you learn when things are rough, isn't it? (though hell, I think I'm done learning for a bit please...) lol

Stephanie--thank you, and I'm trying to find sympathy for you but a lovely long autumn sounds incredible from beneath my frozen hill! lol I must admit that I do enjoy each season...though this frigid one seems endless at the moment. Happy spring!

Robbie Grey said...

Lovely to read of you once more. Sorry you've had a difficult time as of late. Personally, I believe every season, no matter how loved or despised, holds its own beauty. Being able to see and realize that gets on just that much closer to enlightenment.

Irish Gumbo said...

One only truly appreciates the feast once one has known famine. This is something 'winter years' have taught me.

As to that petulant child…I am watching it from my window, out there kicking and bawling into the grass. It won't be much longer, it's running out of breath.

Here's to a glorious spring!

Irish Gumbo said...

One only truly appreciates the feast once one has known famine. This is something 'winter years' have taught me.

As to that petulant child…I am watching it from my window, out there kicking and bawling into the grass. It won't be much longer, it's running out of breath.

Here's to a glorious spring!

Irish Gumbo said...

One only truly appreciates the feast once one has known famine. This is something 'winter years' have taught me.

As to that petulant child…I am watching it from my window, out there kicking and bawling into the grass. It won't be much longer, it's running out of breath.

Here's to a glorious spring!

Richelle Ferree said...

I made the same mistake I always do, I read your blog before writing my own. Now I sit here wondering, what is the point? I can never write anything so complete, so vivid. You are the moment breath catches.

Shea Goff said...

You've been missed.

Optimistic Existentialist said...

I have really missed your posts! I sincerely hope 2014 is better for you than 2013. A new year. A new dawn. Only 15 more days until Spring :)

Chantel said...

Robbie--I suppose I should look harder for the beauty...and really, isn't surviving a beauty all unto itself? :) I have so much to catch up on!

Irish--you are so right, I know appreciation is the child of want...but sometimes living that is more difficult that one anticipates. And yes, come spring!

Richelle--you say some of the most lovely things, you know that?? Adore you. (and not just for coming to visit yesterday) xo

Shea--have missed you back. Some places are very...honest. I reveal so much here that there are times it's too raw to come. Not sure if that makes sense....but immensly glad you all are still here. :)

Optimistic--thank you, and are you counting the days like I am??

BLissed-Out Grandma said...

I finally heard what I think is a cardinal's mating call today, about two months late. But maybe that's because I've stayed indoors through the nasty cold temps. Sorry that life treated you badly...I really hope 2014 brings you all kinds of wonderfulness. And yes, as others have noted, your post is beautifully written.

terlee said...

Ah. There you are. You've been on my mind of late. I'm so glad to hear--though you've struggled--that you're still standing.

flower said...

this post reminds me of a place so close to my heart.
but I was in love with the weather. everyone hated when it rained after every 15 minutes i loved it. Having a sun after 15 days in cold winters made everyone's eyes smaller and in hot weather , despite of a high temperature, we had cool breeze.
(:
I live in mountains somewhere in the east.


www.holdingajournal.blogspot.in

Chantel said...

Bliss--oh, for the crimson flash that is a cardinal's flight! I'm praying this last storm is the final freeze, we all could use some sun. And thank you! :)

Terlee--missed you. Yes, standing is its own reward after certain hurricanes, isn't it?

Flower--I too have an affinity for rain which puzzles some; it makes my bones ache like mad--but still inspires me to paint like nothing else! lol I do some of my best work on rainy days...

ravenjanedoh said...

There are less dramatic climates, so naturally I'm moving to one that is anything but less dramatic.

There are winters that last forever sometimes, and yes, 2013 is still blowing across our doorsteps. If I could I would slip inside and offer up some warm coffee, with laughter and fresh bred.

Hold on beautiful lady; our stories are not yet done, and spring is inevitable. - I'm still here.. if not a little mentally snowed in myself, despite the sunshine and flowers here in the PNW. I haven't forgotten you, and I am so glad to read your words again!
Sending sunshine...

Mel Heth said...

I've missed reading your posts. I hope flowers start blooming all over in your life. You can always come to California if you need a break from the grey. ;)

Freckled Philologist said...

Ooooh! I sure like seeing you back. There's something more right with the world when I read your writing here. Besos.

ravenjanedoh said...

Miss your posts; miss you - come back! ;)

ravenjanedoh said...

Yes, thankfully seasons change - and they WILL. - You know the long winter I've been stuck in; hold on for the thaw - it will come Bella.

I moved from those dramatic seasons for a more subtle seasonal change, and I love it here. I have to leave for a few seasons, but in everything, change is the constant - I will be back. Thankfully.

Maybe what you need is a change of latitude as well ;) Sometimes a fresh landscape is exactly what an artist needs.
Glad to see you've posted again - it's been a long dry spell, and I devour your words, whenever you can spare them.

Still here when you need a few yourself. ;)
(BTW: blogger comments is doing something funny - hopefully this isn't repeated 500 times!)