May 21, 2005

Ungraceful Exits

April may be the cruelest month but I think autumn in general is more melancholy than winter. Autumn is an untidy dying, trees weeping leaves and the last flowers sadly waving fading tattered flags.

Autumn seems like a season of false hopes and promises. The weather is capricious, full of sweet breezes one day and stampeding with hail the next, yet you can sense the futily and downward trend towards darkness and cold.

Winter to me is more of a calm and mysterious pregnancy. Life is hibernating just below the surface, ticking along its own slow rythym. Winter follows a trail with fortitude, enduring the storms and the heavy burdens of snow because winter knows that spring will come, and then the long waiting brings life and chaotic youth to the world again.

So I kind of feel that in the list of seasons, winter is the first on the list, mother of the year.

Posted by phreq at May 21, 2005 09:39 AM | TrackBack
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