I am befuddled by the tendency to wish for spring. What would spring be without these long, cold, dark, wistful months? It is easy to overlook the beauty of this season:
Bare bony trees running the edges of the rolling hills and dales.
Cold creeks under stone bridges, their black banks contrasted with patches of white snow.
Even the frigid winds are beautiful, as are the warm, cozy houses when you stomp in out of the cold. It is a time for introspection and creativity. It is full of mystery and death, but its stark beauty warms my heart.
I wrote a song about it today, called Caribou. It is a song about the season, but also about the fear of someday possibly losing winter, either from global warming or my own passing. It is about a longing for winter and normalcy.
Oh, winter, have you left me?Oh, winter, have you left me?In the ash black dirt beside this creekNext to the body of this CaribouI will lay this body down to sleepOh, winter, will you promise me?Oh, winter, will you promise me?Will you visit me in my next life?Will you offer me some good advice?I can see it in your pale skiesOh, cold windWill I never see your darkest days again?Will I never hear you silent nights again?In your gloom I watch my life unfoldI see my courage in your quiet streamsAnd all the beauty in your deepest snows(Come again snow, come again snow)© Larissa Chace Smith, 2/19/09
Someday, maybe I'll share this song with you. Or should I say, The Hello Strangers will.....