December 19, 2011
In a few short days, Winter arrives! This is my season. This is my time.
As a child of Southern California, I never knew anything about winter until one year when the boy I loved at that time drove us up Mt. Palomar and into the heart of winter. Cars were stalled and stuck all along the highway, and the chains my boyfriend had in the back of his Ford Pinto Wagon were too large for the vehicle’s small wheels. Still, we stopped and helped push several stranded travelers out of the drifts, then descended the mountain to have hot chocolate at a tiny local cafe. I’ll never forget that evening. People stared at me. People always stare at me because, frankly, six foot women aren’t all that common even in Southern California. But I knew they were staring at me that night for a reason that had nothing to do with my height. They felt – as I did – my oneness with the season. Surround me with snow and ice, and I’m in my element. My inner fire glows.
There’s a blizzard warning on part of the Southern Plains tonight and, oh, how I wish it was headed my way.
Come Winter! Come snow and ice and chilling winds! I embrace thee, as you embrace me.
This is MY time.