I took the steps down the hill, rather than the slope, mindful that it's one of those less-travelled paths. I took my headphones out to listen to the winter night a bit. What little snow still lies managed to muffle the world regardless.
It's strange, time, in the hush of winter. It whispers in the stillness of the cold, the bitterness of the wind. All seems to be sleeping. Time hasn't stopped, or even slowed. It's not dormant, nor is it hibernating.
It's just an illusion. Time tumbles on through this cold, still darkness.
And change is afoot.
1 comment:
I enjoyed a transition here from earthly idiosyncrasies to unearthly, mysterious ponderings around the way winter treats time as time is in truth: only an illusion. And change—which always is happening—in the light here is delightfully foreboding...
...and change being afoot brought me around to foot and back to earthly idiosyncrasies like wellies eating my socks, especially my right sock. And I see now that if I had wellie socks, this probably wouldn’t happen : )
Post a Comment