The signs are everywhere.
The crisp cool air.
The waning light.
The birds - and their annual migration.
In one minute - here.
In the next - they’ve taken flight.
On their path - southbound - for the winter.
Filling the Empty
Alone.
In the morning quiet. Only me and my sweet girl pup. Not a word to be said.
She and me - invisible.
She stops. I stop. We watch and wait and listen. The spring snow - I'm thinking - is the most beautiful of all the snow I've seen.
Thick. Gentle. Warm and white. Silent.
I hear the peck-pecking of a woodpecker...the familiar trill of the red-winged blackbird.
In the in between - I hear the sweet melody of the robin's song.
Slowly - a symphony is forming.
I think about the seasons. The freeze and the thaw. The never-ending cycles.
How one ending is another beginning and that same beginning is another's end.
Life goes on.
It always has. It always does. It always will.
One year ago - spring arrived as a promise. This year - I'm not so sure what to believe. Perhaps - there is no such thing.
Only hopes. Only dreams. Only possibilities.
Time doesn't heal. It - perhaps - lessens the intensity. But with time - the void and loss and emptiness becomes more real.
I sit.
I wait for signs of spring's re-birth and renewal. I remember another day...another time. I remember one year ago.
I watch - as the birds fly free.
If only for a moment - filling the space of the empty.
Blank Canvas
It was the perfect backdrop. Early morning winter fog....an unexpected and lone merganser duck appearing out of nowhere.
A scene unfolding.
A blank canvas awaiting to be filled with words and color.