ab initio, ad infinitum

winter.

I'M A LITTLE BITTER ABOUT WINTER, WEIRDLY. and what better why to understand why im so suddenly bitter than to write and reflect about it? tbh, i have no idea what the hell i just typed down there, but i got in my feels about this season why listening to come under the covers by WALK THE MOON, and so this piece was born. seriously though; no idea what this one is about. do good, be well. <3

W I N T E R

There comes a day that the cold settles in, deep inside. It creeps slowly, leaving you to grapple with your denial until it catches you by the throat, and sinks into your body, beneath your skin. It finds a home there - that wretched cold - and it changes you.

The comes a day where the mornings are only survivable curled up under the covers, press icy feet deeper into blankets, cocoon yourself in fleece and warmth. To hide and shelter, to breathe and rest. Those are the days that belong to icicles-for-fingers that only regain feeling while clutching a beloved mug, steam steadily rising.

There comes a day when snow falls, cold pinpricks that carry a promise with them, good and bad. Frost kisses the grass instead of morning dew, and sheets of white cover the rooftops. Slush is pushed to the curb, the sloppy disgusting mess that if oftentimes ignored in favour of its cousin, powder snow. Ice sinks its claws into whatever it can, grasping onto anything and everything, beautiful in its danger.

There comes a time where the world seems to fall into a sleep, disrupted by our schedules and to-do lists and our need for the constant pushing  and thrumming and bustle of life, of trips to the grocery store and the office and the schools, full of grumbles yet pursued anyway. It's days that the sun doesn't seem to fully come out until the afternoon, and when it stays only for an hour or two before hiding away once more. When birds fly away and animals sleep and plants die, humans stay awake, with stuffy noses and bleary eyes and cups of coffee.

There comes a time when everything dies and the sun never shines and darkness seeps into your bones. There comes a time that is known as winter.

But the brilliance of winter is often overlooked as well. The ice and frost and snow are stunning things, crystalline objects of brilliance, aching to be looked at yet pushed aside. While the days are short and the sun never seems to come out, the days get longer during winter. And almost imperceptible thing, the lengthening of days, since humans are so attuned to pick up what they are lacking rather than what they are getting. But it happens. The sun dares to show its face for a few minutes more, and the ground which was once frozen, thaws. 

Winter may be death, but that makes it life in its own right as well. Spring springs from winter. The flowers grow  as they are watered by the ice and frost and snow that melt by the rays of the sun that stays out a bit longer. The life and beauty of spring and summer is only possible once autumn slowly slips the life away and winter crushes it below its snowy feet.

And though the cold changes us, change is not a good or bad thing. It just happens. During the winter, we harden and soften, molded by the gentle steel of winter. We fight frostbite by surrounding ourselves with blankets and the arms of loved ones, leaving us tough and vulnerable in ways we don't associate with winter. 

Because while winter is death and then also life, winter is survival as well. While birds fly away and animals sleep and plants die, humans stay awake, and so we learn the lessons winter teaches when no one else is listening. We learn how to live through cold and see past death and stay awake, and we remember spring. But instead of closing our eyes until then, we keep them open, watching the rare beauty of winter as it wipes slates clean - a thankless job - learning how winter survives, and us along with it.

Death brings life. Darkness brings light.

And winter brings all of the above.

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