Winter Child
Winter Child
I know I’m home when the air is cold. I awake in my bed. It feels like a protective downy nest buried in the earth, shielding me from the frost. I breathe in the fresh crisp air before I even open my eyes. I can smell only the smell of ice and wind.
I slip out from between my sheets and blankets and touch my bare feet to the freezing wooden floor. I can feel the wood beneath me. It’s hard as stone in sharp contrast to my still-warm soft feet. I creep across it without a sound and slowly open my bedroom door.
Nothing around me stirs. The creaks and bumps that I hear in the night have seemingly disappeared back into the shadowy corners they came from. The morning sun, still just a pink and orange haze in the sky, shines weakly through the windows. It’s not yet strong enough to warm the air. That suits me fine.
I can see the dust dancing in the weak sunbeams by the curtains. Other than that the air is unusually clear and sharp. I breathe in deeply again; the air has somehow softened, yet it still chills the tip of my nose with each breathe and turns it red. My senses upon waking were dull from the long nights sleep. They still were, but they had somehow heightened too. Everything stood out: the chill on my skin, the warmth of my body, the air I was breathing, the sun fighting its way through the glassy sky…and still I felt as if I was sleeping walking, or in a dream.
There I stop, in the middle of the room. Everything around me is still unmoving, unchanging. The atmosphere around me is so silent and still that I can clearly hear my own heart beating in my chest. I imagine each beat appears as a sound wave: it comes out of my body and ventures out into the world on the same path forever. Every fiber of my being joins with the surrounding world. My feet seemed cemented to the floor and my limbs start to dissolve into the winter air. And yet I stand there still, fully me and solid as the earth.
My mind knows not how long I stand looking out into the bleak and beautiful landscape. The snow had fallen fast and now it blanketed the hills and the trees and the plains. The surface of it was hard and glassy like a mirror from the frost. Nothing moved yet in the early morning. The desolation is awe inspiring. I savor my complete and utter solitude.
One more breathe in. then out again. Still silent. Nothing. A moment passes…nothing. A smile crosses my face. Small and secret, but a smile nonetheless. My heart is at peace. In this moment, this stillness and quiet, my soul knows it is home.
I slip out from between my sheets and blankets and touch my bare feet to the freezing wooden floor. I can feel the wood beneath me. It’s hard as stone in sharp contrast to my still-warm soft feet. I creep across it without a sound and slowly open my bedroom door.
Nothing around me stirs. The creaks and bumps that I hear in the night have seemingly disappeared back into the shadowy corners they came from. The morning sun, still just a pink and orange haze in the sky, shines weakly through the windows. It’s not yet strong enough to warm the air. That suits me fine.
I can see the dust dancing in the weak sunbeams by the curtains. Other than that the air is unusually clear and sharp. I breathe in deeply again; the air has somehow softened, yet it still chills the tip of my nose with each breathe and turns it red. My senses upon waking were dull from the long nights sleep. They still were, but they had somehow heightened too. Everything stood out: the chill on my skin, the warmth of my body, the air I was breathing, the sun fighting its way through the glassy sky…and still I felt as if I was sleeping walking, or in a dream.
There I stop, in the middle of the room. Everything around me is still unmoving, unchanging. The atmosphere around me is so silent and still that I can clearly hear my own heart beating in my chest. I imagine each beat appears as a sound wave: it comes out of my body and ventures out into the world on the same path forever. Every fiber of my being joins with the surrounding world. My feet seemed cemented to the floor and my limbs start to dissolve into the winter air. And yet I stand there still, fully me and solid as the earth.
My mind knows not how long I stand looking out into the bleak and beautiful landscape. The snow had fallen fast and now it blanketed the hills and the trees and the plains. The surface of it was hard and glassy like a mirror from the frost. Nothing moved yet in the early morning. The desolation is awe inspiring. I savor my complete and utter solitude.
One more breathe in. then out again. Still silent. Nothing. A moment passes…nothing. A smile crosses my face. Small and secret, but a smile nonetheless. My heart is at peace. In this moment, this stillness and quiet, my soul knows it is home.