"Go outside and play."
Those words created in me
a deep love for being out of doors.
And I remember winter best ~
it smelled so clean
and sparkled so fiercely.
I learned the different sounds
of snow at different temperatures:
slush squishes out from under boots
while -20 degree hard-packed finger drifts squeak.
Moms back then would cut the toe end off
of old athletic socks, a homemade remedy
that closed the freezing gap
between glove and coat sleeve.
Skating, sledding, trudging along frozen creek beds,
finding the stalky remains of cattails and marsh grasses,
tightening the knit scarf around my neck,
pushing my gloved hands deep inside my coat pockets,
turning my back against the incessant wind...
Blue, blue, very blue
the frosty color of Winter.
Early afternoon long tree branch shadows on snow...
Deep blue twilight settling in at 4 pm,
early nightfall and when the full moon shone,
Deepest blue upon Deeper blue,
in a cold bright wonderland.
There are a few times in this southern clime
when I see that steely winter blue
or grasses stiff from winter's cold kiss
as I "Go outside...."
And I then remember.
Winterlude ~ 8